


Ghost Stories

by HappilyNervousCollection



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Foster Family, Does NOT take place in Minecraft, Family Dynamics, Fluff, Gen, Ghost Tubbo AU, Hurt/Comfort, POV Third Person Limited, Tommy POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:01:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 16
Words: 108,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27698017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HappilyNervousCollection/pseuds/HappilyNervousCollection
Summary: When Phil is presented with a new job opportunity, Sleepy Boys Inc move to a new town. Things are okay, but when Tommy takes a walk through the woods and finds an abandoned tree house, it only gets better.A stuffed animal, left alone and forgotten, is found buried underneath the autumn leaves.
Relationships: Dave | Technoblade & TommyInnit & Wilbur Soot & Phil Watson, Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit
Comments: 373
Kudos: 1184





	1. Chapter 1

The autumn weather clings to Tommy with pleasant refreshment, a gentle breeze wafting by. The only direction to his steps is the occasional brownish-red colored leaf that he makes sure to step on, the crunch under his shoes more than satisfying. He should have been home maybe ten or twenty minutes ago, but considering the conversation he’s sure that awaits him, he’d rather take a long walk and let it all blow over. Besides, it’s a nice day out, and it’s not like he wouldn’t do this before they moved.

His gaze rests evenly on the sidewalk path before him, and he makes mental notes of street names and neighborhoods he passes. He’ll glance to his side as well, seeing if he can spot buildings between the gaps in the trees. Ten minutes pass until the end of the woods is invisible, no sign of civilization for at least a mile. He makes a note of the street he’s by, and dips into the woods, each step resulting in that satisfactory crunch of footfalls on autumn leaves.

Sunlight shines through the canopies in slivered rays, dotting the ground he walks on. It’s gorgeous, really, and peaceful too. He gets thirty feet into the woods and he can’t even hear the cars from the nearby road anymore. It’s replaced with the rustling of leaves, the breeze that had been so faint causing an almost musical sensation in the treetops. 

He gets a little bit further, and he thinks he can hear the sound of a creek. It’s a little ways away, but he finds himself following the sound, walking closer and closer. It’s well worth it, the creak is about five to ten feet across, with moss covered rocks poking up over the water’s surface. The little rays of sunlight leave the water golden. He brings himself to its bank, then begins his walk again, only this time he’s stepping from rock to rock. 

It’s a pleasant feeling, this sort of exploration. Sure, he misses his old woods, but this isn’t half bad at all. The water bubbles just near his feet, never once soaking into his shoes. Some leaves float past as he walks, and there’s some parts where he has to hold his arms out wide to steady himself. He carefully watches each footfall until the sunlight becomes a bit harsher, and he stops in his path to look up.

He’s reached a rather pleasant clearing, seasonal flowers blooming around the edges. The grass is yellow tinted and soft looking, brushing by with the gentle breeze. It’s gorgeous, and, as Tommy takes it in, he finds himself squinting at one of the trees opposite of the river. His eyes widen with the realization, his mouth stretching into a grin as he quickly hops to the other side of the river, quickly crossing the small field.

It’s absolutely perfect.

Perched up in one of the trees is what looks to be an old abandoned tree house, with weathered wood and a partly broken ladder leading up to it. There’s a large culmination of dead leaves and pine needles on it, and it doesn’t exactly look the most well kept. It’s absolutely and so wonderfully perfect.

When asking one’s hobbies, it always felt so strange to say video games or anything electronic. People often ask in anticipation of something more quaint, like baking bread or making music or reading. So, if Tommy were to ignore his love of video games, he supposed that fixing things would be his hobby. Making things, creating little shacks and playhouses for himself. So, when he lays his eyes on the well abandoned tree house nearly falling apart in the tree, his heart soars with just how perfect it is. 

He makes his way closer to the base of the tree, testing the strength of the ladder before climbing up them. There’s a small struggle four rungs up, when he has to pull himself with a little more gusto to accommodate for the missing step, but it’s well worth it once he makes it to the top. 

Everything in the tree house is dirty- the walls, the floor, everything. And considering the amount of half decomposed leaves, he’s willing to bet it's probably got a few bugs in it too. It’s the foundations of something he’s excited to improve upon. He can’t wait to make this his home.

He doesn’t wait either.

He sets his backpack down by the ladder, starting to clear out some of the leaves. There’s a window on every wall, which makes it much easier to scoop up armfuls of leaves and twigs and toss them out. Some of them are moist, getting what’s essentially wet compost on his arm, but he pays it no mind. If anything, he enjoys the earthy sort of smell that comes from it. The cool breeze keeps him from growing hot during his work.

With each finished section of floor, he pauses, looking out the window with a wistful sort of glee. The sun shines over the golden grass, glittering on the river water beautifully. It’s a nice view, and one he definitely wouldn’t mind getting used to. He wonders what it would be like to sit up here and listen to one of his cassettes- maybe even bring Wilbur up here instead, and have him play his guitar. It’s a long shot, and he’d definitely have to clean things up a bit more, considering his brother likes things a little more indoors-y. But he’s sure the pay off would be more than worth it.

He’s almost done clearing out the leaves, reaching for one of the larger piles when he feels something strange and foreign. It’s questionable enough that he carefully drops the pile, kneeling down beside it so that he can rifle through it. His hand comes into contact with a slightly scratchy material, and he pulls on it, pulling out a horribly dirty and matted stuffed animal. He can’t even make out what it really is, it’s so dirty and weathered, but his heart tugs more than he’d like to admit. 

This tree house definitely had to belong to somebody, even if they were gone now- either moved away or too old to play here anymore. And, well, he can’t just leave the stuffed animal here, now can he? He doesn’t think he could throw it away either- his heart tugs at the mere idea of doing that. So, he gets up, and tries wiping it down again.

The plush material is moist, and each swipe of his hand dirties his palm even more than it already had been. His brows furrow, but he refuses to give up, and instead sets it almost tenderly next to his backpack. It’s another project, he thinks. He’ll clean it up real nice.

When he finishes up that last section of the wall, it’s gotten significantly darker. Not close to sunset yet, which is kind of sad, considering Tommy’s sure it would be absolutely beautiful to watch here. But he’s a little more concerned with the realization that Phil’s probably worried for him, and he still has homework to do. He takes one last breath of the air around him, then grabs his backpack and the stuffed animal, climbing down the ladder and walking away from the clearing.

He follows the mental map he’d made before, and soon enough finds himself on a street he recognizes. He walks home from there, preemptively planning on how to get to his room without suffering from a long talk with Phil about his whereabouts and trouble at school. When he reaches the front door, he fidgets with his new house key, pushing it open.

Whatever plans he’d had are immediately thwarted, the sound of Phil’s voice echoing from the kitchen as he shouts, “Tommy?”

“Yeah.” He says in confirmation, and he quickly walks towards the stairs, hoping to avoid the conversation. “Sorry I’m home so late, I decided to take a walk. I’m going to go to my room now.” He says quickly, his steps thumping up the stairs as he goes. He ignores Phil’s protesting stammers, and instead continues, almost speed walking until he reaches his room. He sighs softly, shrugging the backpack off his shoulders and resting it by his door. 

He still isn’t quite used to this being his room, but it isn’t too bad. The cleanliness of it does have him hesitating to put the stuffed animal down, though, and instead he opts to bring it into the bathroom with him. He needs to wash his hands anyways, and maybe some hand soap could get some of the bigger bits of dirt and leaf off of it.

When he walks in, the first thing he does is set the stuffed animal down in the base of the sink. He gathers a bit of soap in his hands, then turns the water on and begins working his hands through the material. The water soaks in a good bit, making the plush material heavy with it, but the water that does trickle off the side is brown in color. Suds build up against the matted fabric, the cloth squishing almost uncomfortably against his hands. 

When most of the heavy bits are off, Tommy holds the stuffed animal up and squeezes it, more water pouring out of it. He thinks he can start to see some embroidered eyes on the front of it, as well as a yellow sort of color, but it’s still so hard to tell. He’s filled with a heavy determination now that he’s made some headway, and he sets the stuffed animal aside so that he can rinse the sink. 

When the sink is clear, he sets the plush back in and closes the drain, letting more clean water fill the sink and soak into the plushy. He’ll probably have to let it sit there for a bit, and maybe wash it again and again, but he’s not going to give up on it just yet. 

It must have been a decent bit since he’d come back, because soon enough, he hears Phil calling up the stairs for his boys to come downstairs for dinner. “I’ll be down in a second!” He yells, working his hands through the material one last time before wiping off his hands, leaving the bathroom. He is almost immediately met by Techno, who quirks a brow at him once he leaves the bathroom. 

“Do I even want to know what you were doing in the bathroom for twenty minutes?”

Tommy rolls his eyes, offering his brother a shrug. “No idea, but lucky for you, it isn’t any of your business.” He replies, and Techno’s expression evens with disinterest, the two of them making their way down the stairs, with Tommy skipping the last two steps in favor of jumping the rest of the way. 

Plates are set up on the kitchen counter, a pot of leftover pasta on the oven. Phil’s just finishing getting the silverware for each plate when Tommy walks in, opening the fridge and grabbing himself a cold Diet Coke. He can feel Phil’s gaze on him, and when he turns he sees the bit of concern on his face. “Tommy, how’d your shirt get all dirty? Did something happen at school today?”

“What?” He asks, and when he looks down, the white chest part of his tee shirt is stained orange-y brown. His brain quickly processes the implications of Phil’s question, and he’s quick to answer with, “Oh, no, nothing like that, Phil. I took a walk through the woods and found an old tree house I’m gonna clean up. I was clearing out some leaves.” 

Phil looks a little relieved at that, giving Tommy a nod and then redirecting his attention to Techno and Wilbur, who have now joined them in the kitchen. Tommy scoots past them all, grabbing himself a plate and walking to his spot at the kitchen table, listening to Techno and Wilbur talk about their days. It’s mostly uneventful, and Wil sounds a little bitter about having to leave his old friends behind, but Tommy’s sure he’ll get over it by the end of the month. Techno and him were kind of in similar boats, not being particularly close to anyone and instead preferring to do their own thing. 

For now though, Wilbur slumps into the seat across from Tommy, giving him a strange look as he does. The three brothers have always had this teasing back and forth sort of relationship, and Tommy’s fully prepared for some witty sarcastic remark or an annoyed lash of his tongue when he flashes Wilbur a playful grin. He’s met with the latter, a crease forming between his brows as he snaps, “What? What are you grinning about?”

“You look like shit, mate.” He answers, an attempt at lightening Wil’s mood. He can’t help but laugh a little as Wilbur’s expression shifts, and well, he definitely doesn’t look as sad or grumpy, but he’s definitely annoyed.

“At least I don’t look like I tripped in it.” He retorts, and Tommy answers with a noncommittal noise that quickly devolves into heaving laughter. Wilbur looks just about ready to lunge over the table and punch him in the arm, but at the same time, the tension bleeds away and he ends up smiling. Techno comes over and takes his seat between them, an almost impish mockery of a mediator. The smirk on his face as he seats himself only adds to the banter of the table.

“Well I think you both look terrible.” He decides, and Tommy nods in agreement- he’s right, after all, and Tommy isn’t afraid to admit that. “At least some people in this family have style.” He muses, and Tommy turns his head when he sees Philza sit opposite of Techno, a warm fondness to his expression. 

The rest of the dinner goes by without much incident; Wilbur makes sure to ask Phil how his new job is going, and Phil says he’s pleased with it- shorter hours for a higher wage means he gets more time to relax at home while making more money than he was before. Phil asks Tommy just where the tree house is, just in case he’ll ever need to pick him up from there, and Tommy explains his mental map, listing street names and even the pathway through the woods. 

The conversation tapers off so that way they can finish their meals without letting them grow too cold. Techno has dishes tonight, which should mean an easy escape for Tommy, but just before he can leave the kitchen, Phil’s hand settles on his shoulder. “Tommy, can we talk for a minute?”

Techno snickers from the sink, and Tommy’s brows furrow as he looks at him. “Oh, fuck off, Technoblade.” He huffs, and Techno laughs just a little louder before reducing it back to an easy grin. It’s annoying, especially considering how Tommy’s chest turns with anxiety- _has been_ turning with anxiety since his teacher regretfully informed him that there would be a phone call home. He turns his head back to Phil, and feels a little ashamed at the concerned expression he’s met with. “But uh, yeah, of course, Phil.”

Phil gives him a small smile, and Tommy looks down, letting the man guide him out from the kitchen and towards the living room for a little more privacy. He pulls his hand back from Tommy’s shoulder, giving him a little more space, and asks him, “So, what happened at school today?”

“It wasn’t my fault,” Tommy says, his voice more of a grumble. “Some kids were being real dickheads to me, right, but it was the middle of class and I didn’t want to interrupt the teacher just to tell her what was happening.” He explains, and Phil gives a thoughtful hum of consideration. The nervous energy bubbles up into laughter, a kind that sounds almost painful, even on his own ears. “So I just- I just started swearing at them, and when the teacher asked me what was wrong, I told her. She said I was overreacting and that she was gonna call you.”

“Oh, what the fuck?” Phil murmurs, and Tommy looks up at him, a bit relieved to see the confusion and annoyance on his face. It eases a great deal of tension, and Tommy nods enthusiastically.

“Right? How the fuck am I supposed to concentrate when I have kids blowing on me and kicking me and shit?” He chimes, growing a bit pleased when Phil gives a nod of agreement. 

“Maybe next time if that happens, ask to work outside, or maybe tell a dean, alright?” Phil requests, and Tommy’s expression falls for only half a second before Phil continues, “I don’t blame you for what happened. It was a completely reasonable response. But I don’t want to get any phone calls home about how you apparently caused a disruption in class, alright? Ask the teacher if you can move seats before class tomorrow.”

Tommy nods, and Phil gives him a nice smile that eases away any remaining tension. There’s a small moment, then, Tommy leans forward and gives him a hug. It’s warm and nice and safe, especially as Phil’s arms wrap around him, squeezing him tight. They part, and he gives the man a smile, walking towards the stairs again. “Thanks, Dad. Love you,” He calls, and he doesn’t miss the way Phil beams at him, proud and soft and adoring.

“I love you too, son.”


	2. Chapter 2

Friday afternoon cannot come quick enough. It's not that Tommy doesn't like school, but he has big plans for the weekend, and he's excited to get to them. The soak he'd given the stuffed animal last night had removed a good amount of dirt and grime, and revealed to Tommy that it was in fact a plush bee. The material was still stained, though, and Tommy had tried whatever methods the first two pages of google had recommended him this morning. He'd left the bee soaking in the sink with some detergent and fabric softener, and instructed Phil to take it out from the sink and put it in the drier once he got back from work. 

So, when the bell rings, he practically runs out of the classroom, his chest almost fluttery with the amount of excitement that surges through him. He does his best to duck and weave between the other students, murmuring apologies with each accidental brush of his arm. He waits outside the front of the school, almost bouncing in place as he looks around, hoping to find his brothers quickly. People crowd into the area, both people like him waiting for family members or friends to walk with, and carpool kids, waiting for their parent to come around the car line. It becomes difficult to see in mere moments, and though Tommy's pretty tall, it's difficult to see much of anything.

He waits, though, anxiously bouncing on his heels as he tries to spot his brothers through the crowd. What's probably only three or five minutes seems to go by like hours, and eventually, Tommy just opts for shooting his brothers a text, telling them that he'll meet them at home. He doesn't wait for a reply either, and instead begins to speed walk back to the house. His walk transitions into a run once he makes it to his neighborhood, and he's out of breath once he reaches the door, hand shakily fumbling with the keys.

"Philza, I'm home!" He shouts. His chest heaves with heavy pants as he steps inside, shrugging his backpack off his shoulders and setting it by the door. 

"Tommy?" Phil calls, and he sounds a little surprised. "How'd you get home so quickly? Don't you get out at two?"

"I ran," Tommy answers. If he's given a reply, he doesn't hear it. Instead, he walks into the kitchen and grabs himself a drink, practically chugging it down. He ends up almost choking on it, breaking out into a fit of sputtering coughs. His breathing is uneven when he finally stops, and he takes a moment to gather his breath. When he's finally, _finally_ breathing like normal, he gives Phil another shout. "Did you put the bee in the drier?"

"Yeah, I did. It should be done by now." Is his answer, and Tommy breaks out into a full grin. He walks to the laundry room, the faint rumble of the drier audible as he grows closer. His stomach turns with butterflies, trying to tame them as he grabs the doorknob and steps into the room. The machine's timer is dotted out, and it rumbles passively, fluffing up and turning it's already dried contents. The plastic protector is warm to the touch as Tommy grabs it to open the machine.

His stomach drops when he looks inside. The fabric is clean, sure, but the harshness of the machine has torn part of it open. Cotton stuffing sticks to the inside of the barrel, comparable in some ways to a murder scene. His heart aches in his chest, and he finds himself reaching forward slowly, scared of the sight before him. Scared that his touch will prove it's reality. 

The fabric is warm and soft to the touch, a faint yellow color. He pulls it out with a great deal of care, turning the fabric over in his hands. The bee's expression is cute when it stares up at him, and it pulls on his heart. The fabric is torn at the first black stripe, and his thumb runs along the edges of it, the material brushing the pad of his thumb softly. 

It's fine, he assures himself, despite the sunken feeling in his chest. The soaking did so much in fixing the stuffed animal, and the thing had been so old and weathered that tearing was bound to happen. He's come this far, a little sewing won't do him any harm.

He sets the fabric aside for a moment, gathering the cotton stuffing from inside the drier. It feels soft and warm, and he collects as much as he is able to before closing the drier door and walking back towards his room. He sits on his bed, holding the tear in the fabric open so that he can re-stuff the plushy. The stuffed animal sags awkwardly once all the stuffing's back inside, not quite as full as it had been before. 

He sighs, setting the stuffed animal aside for now and walking towards his closet. He got rid of most of his moving boxes the day they moved in, but that doesn't mean he remembers exactly where he put everything. He begins to sort through his things, brows furrowed in mild frustration and scowl growing the longer it takes him. Evidently, it's not there, and he finds himself groaning at the realization. 

"Phil!" He shouts, and after a slight pause, he adds, "Do you know where the movers put my sewing kit?"

Tommy's had the thing for ages- a hodgepodge of collected needles and threads and buttons and stuffing. He doesn't sew clothing or blankets or anything like that, but it has proven useful in sewing patches on jackets and mending holes in ripped up jeans. And, more relevantly, patching up old stuffed animals. 

"Check the laundry room, maybe in one of the cabinets!" Phil shouts back, and Tommy nods, getting up and walking back into the laundry room. He searches through the small wardrobe tucked inside, finding spare toilet paper and fabric softener, and then, much to his relief, the wicker basket of his sewing kit. 

"Found it!" He shouts, pulling it down from the cabinet. He takes it back to his room, then, shutting the door behind him. He sets the basket down next to the stuffed animal, opening one of the compartments and pulling out a bit of spare pillow stuffing. He takes a fistful and tucks it inside the fabric casing, holding the tear back together so he can see just how much more he needs to add. He settles on adding two fistfuls of stuffing more before he's satisfied.

He tucks a few pins in place so that the tear won't open up again, then goes to his computer, searching up a tutorial on how to do a seamless stitch. It'd be fine if the fabric had torn along previously existing stitching, but it hasn't, and he'd prefer to have the bee in as good a condition as he can get it. He finds himself a good tutorial, pausing right at the beginning of the video so that he can get his needle and thread. 

He finds himself an orange-ish yellow thread, which is unfortunately the only yellow colored thread he has. He supposes it's fine, though. It's better than bright red, and if he does this well enough, he shouldn't be able to see the stitching anyways. His tongue pokes out of corner of his mouth as he threads his needle, rolling the thread between his fingers to tie the end into a knot. When he's finally got it, he looks up and unpauses the video, doing his best to follow along.

There's a few times he has to stop because he's accidentally stabbed himself with the needle, but by the end of it, with one final tug of the needle, the tear closes up and the stitching looks completely gone. He grins with satisfaction, removing the rest of the pins and settling them aside. He turns the stuffed animal in his hand, met with the stitched smile of the bee. It's feels so much kinder than it had before, as if the stuffed animal is grateful for it's repair.

He squishes the bee in his hands, his laughter breathy as the face scrunches up. Satisfaction courses through him like life in his veins. It works his way through him with a warm presence, and he finds himself relaxing against the bed, holding the stuffed animal close to his chest, almost tenderly so. A distant part of him recognizes this as irrational, and he promptly chooses to ignore that. 

A bit of time has been taken up by the repair of the bee, and the relaxation that resulted from his success prevents him from getting up and heading back to the tree house. He's satisfied for now, and he can get a good start tomorrow. So, he packs up the bits of the sewing kit, taking the box and tucking it into his closet. He takes the bee and approaches his desk, booting up a game on his computer and letting the stuffed animal rest in his lap as he plays.

He plays for hours on end, joining different lobbies and playing different mini-games. He only stops once Phil calls them down for dinner, pausing the game and standing from his chair. He sets the stuffed bee on his bed, propped up against his pillow. It holds a place next to his stuffed cow, Henry, and Tommy can't help but grin at the sight. "You've got a friend, now, don't you?" He chimes, and the polished beady eyes stare up at him sweetly. He can't help but coo at the sight, a soft smile on his face as he leaves the room and heads down for dinner.

The rest of the evening is uneventful. He plays one of his cassettes and does the rest of his homework, mouthing the words to one of Wilbur's songs. He's not sure if Wil knows about this cassette- he's sure he probably wouldn't be the most pleased if he did. Tommy did record it outside his room after all, back when he was first getting used to Phil fostering him. Back when they weren't that close to each other yet. Still, whether Wil knows about or not, Tommy sings softly to the lyrics as he finishes his homework, and he listens to his brothers songs as he goes to sleep that night. He holds Henry and the bee close to him as he drifts off, ready for his day tomorrow.

Soft golden light filters into his room the next morning. It shines through his blinds in sectioned off rays, landing one after the other as it illuminates his room. It brings promise of a beautiful day awaiting him, whenever he feels ready to get out of bed and begin. He sits up after a moment or two, brushing his hair out of his face. He slips out of bed, and just as he's about to reach his door and head downstairs, he notices something in the reflection of his wall mirror. It startles him, and he turns quickly to see if it's just a trick of the light, only for his mouth to fall agape. 

Because there in his room stands a boy with brunet hair and a messily buttoned green shirt.

He can't help the loud scream he lets out, shrill as he stumbles backwards, only to find himself pressed up against his door. The boy yelps similarly, scooting back and away from him. "Wha- What the shit? How did you get in my room? Who are you?" Tommy asks, stuttering over his words. He didn't leave his window open or anything, had he? No- certainly not. And even if he did, it wouldn't explain why some random teenager had worked his way into his room.

"I-I don't know, I'm sorry." The boy answers, and he sounds just as confused and scared as Tommy does. His answer is frustrating, and Tommy's panic quickly turns to flustered annoyance. He opens his mouth to start yelling at the boy again, and the teen seems to recognize that, taking another step back and holding up his hands defensively.

A ray of light shines through the boy, and Tommy's mouth hangs agape. _Holy shit, he's fucking transparent-_

"Are you... Are you a ghost or something? Like- Like a spirit?" He asks, his voice just a little softer than it had been before. It's just as bewildered, though more conversational now. The boy looks confused now, and he lowers his hands slowly, still unsure of the situation. 

"I don't- I don't think so-?" He answers, and Tommy quirks a brow, stepping closer. The boy seizes with apprehension, and Tommy stops for a second, meeting the boy's eyes. He looks scared and confused, looking at Tommy with slight panic. Tommy holds his hands up.

"I'm not going to hurt you, alright? I just need to test something out." He says, and after a second of hesitation, the boy nods. Tommy takes a few steps closer, then extends his hand, reaching it towards the boy's chest.

It feels as if his hand goes through a cold breeze. 

The boy shudders uncomfortably, and Tommy pulls his hand back. "Well, that's pretty fucking weird." He murmurs, and before he can really say much else about it, there's a loud knock at his door. 

"Tommy, can you stop fucking screaming at nine a.m?!" Wilbur chastises, sounding decently annoyed. 

"Sorry," Tommy quickly calls, looking away from the boy and back towards his door. "Just had a nightmare!" 

"Well maybe next time don't scream like a fucking baby about it!"

"I did not- I scream like a man," He retorts, and he can practically feel the eye roll from the other side of his door. "I- I have a very manly scream." He adds, and he's given no reply, only the sound of footsteps growing more and more distant. He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose and swearing under his breath as he turns back to face the boy. The boy isn’t looking at him anymore, though. Instead, he’s looking at the bed.

”You have my bee.” The boy comments, pointing towards the worn stuffed animal. Tommy glances between the boy and the bee, then nods.

”Yeah, he was pretty roughed up. I had to clean him up.” Tommy says. He’s beginning to work out just what is happening, processing the information laid out before him. He cleaned up this kid’s stuffed animal, and now his spirit or whatever was in his room. If this wasn’t a dream- and considering Wilbur’s yelling, Tommy was willing to bet that it wasn’t -then that would probably mean that the boy’s spirit had been inside the stuffed animal. Tommy knows absolutely nothing about ghosts, but he’s sure this assumption is fairly reasonable. “Do you have a name?”

The boy hums, thinking on it for a second. “I don’t know. I can’t remember.” He answers, and Tommy gives him a soft nod.

”Right, well, I guess we should start with an easier one- what _do_ you remember?”

The boy thinks on that question for even longer than the first. His expression is twisted in confusion, his hand fidgeting idly with the fabric of his shirt. The momentary pause allows Tommy to take him in a little better, now noticing the strange looking scars crawling up his neck and curling along his cheek and jaw. It’s strange, Tommy isn’t even sure how someone would get scars like that. When the boy turns back to face him, Tommy does his best not to look and feel guilty for his staring. 

“I remember bees, and flowers, and soft grass.” He says. “And...And I remember a forest.”

The clearing. Tommy’s eyebrows raise, and the boy must think he has a problem or something, because he quickly adds: “Sorry, that’s all I can remember right now.”

”No, no, it’s alright. Really,” Tommy assures. “I know where you’re talking about. I was actually planning on going there today. Do you want to come with me?” 

The boy looks surprised at the offer, but nods, giving him a smile that radiates its own sort of sunshine. Even with the golden light phasing through him like he isn’t even there, he’s practically glowing, and Tommy feels a surge of excitement and warm energy course through him. It tingles in his chest, spreading through him like liquid gold. He gives the boy a mirrored smile. 


	3. Chapter 3

They quickly discover three things. The first discovery is made roughly two thirds of the way down the stairs, when the boy stops in his tracks. Tommy turns around to face him, only to see him standing there, eyes wide and confused. "What's the hold up?" He asks, a brow quirked, and the boy takes a step back and then tries again, unable to push past. It's as if there's an invisible barrier preventing him from going much farther.

"I can't- It won't let me continue." The boy answers, and there's a second where the two of them just stare at each other, trying to figure it out. Then, an idea comes to mind.

"Ah, I think- give me a second," Tommy says, and the boy nods, side stepping so that Tommy can walk back up the stairs. He goes back into his room and takes the bee from it's place on his bed, bringing it with him as he goes back down the stairs. The boy is right where he left him, looking just as confused when he comes back. Tommy takes a few more steps, bypassing the ghost and instead making it to the bottom of the stairs. He looks back up once he's done. "Okay, now try again."

The ghost gives him a strange look, but tries again, and this time is met with no resistance. His eyes are wide, mouth slightly agape when he joins Tommy at the bottom of the stairs, and the expression makes Tommy grin. He looks absolutely baffled, it's silly, and Tommy feels that same warmth surge through him. "That was _weird."_ The boy says, and Tommy laughs a little, nodding.

"Yeah- Yeah, it was." He says, then adjusts his hold on the stuffed bee, holding it up so they can both see it. "I think this is like an anchor point, or something. You can't go too far from it." He explains, and watches the boy look between him and the bee with an almost offended look on his face. 

"Why not? That's stupid. That's really, really stupid." He says, and Tommy laughs a little louder at just how confused and offended he sounds. The boy seems to pick up on this, and his expression shifts, the corners of his lips lifting in a smile. "I mean, it's just impractical!"

"For me, maybe. I'm the one holding it after all." Tommy replies, and he's met with a goofy grin and a half shrug. "Actually, can you hold it? We never really tested that out." He asks, and the boy shrugs again, unsure. Curious, Tommy holds the stuffed animal out, watching as the boy sets his hand around it's sides.

It falls right to the floor the second Tommy lets go. 

"Guess I'm stuck holding it." Tommy muses, picking up the stuffed animal. He tucks it between his arm and his side, and when he looks back to the boy, he's holding his hands up in front of him, looking so horribly confused. His nose scrunches up with the expression, as if most of the day's events have been nothing but a personal offense. 

"That's so weird." 

Tommy answers him with a hum. "It isn't the weirdest thing that's happened today," He says, beginning to walk to the kitchen. The boy follows him, keeping pace. "Are you sure you're not a ghost?" He asks, stepping into the kitchen so that he can fetch himself some breakfast, and the boy is quickly cut off before he even gets the chance to reply.

"Tommy, _what?"_ Tommy turns his head, making eye contact with Wilbur. Wil's sitting at the table, staring at him like he's a fucking lunatic. "Who the fuck are you talking to?" 

They hold eye contact for a moment, and Tommy quickly glances at the boy, before centering his attention back on his brother. He looks somewhere between concerned and annoyed, like he isn't sure if Tommy's playing some weird joke on him. "You- You can't see him?" He asks, and he sounds genuinely confused when he asks. His question makes Wilbur's eyebrows raise, expression becoming more intense. 

"What?" He asks, and his voice is a little darker than it was before. It makes Tommy a little more tense, and he can't help the way his voice raises when he replies. 

"So I'm the only one that can see him, then?" He asks, glancing between his brother and the boy at his side. The boy looks just as confused as Tommy does, and Tommy quickly turns back to Wil, who only looks more riled up. "Wilbur, I swear I'm not messing with you, but there's a ghost right here. I'm being serious." He tries, but Wilbur doesn't look like he's having any of it. 

"Clearly I've woken up too early." He says, voice more of a grumble to himself as he stands. He takes his bowl of cereal and sets it in the sink, then quickly walks past Tommy to head back upstairs- both him and the ghost have to move out of the way in order for him to pass. Tommy doesn't watch him for long, but he can hear his footsteps echo as he walks back up the stairs. Tommy stands there for a second, then huffs, his brows slightly furrowed. 

"I can't believe he wouldn't believe me. I'm- I'm Tommy trusty, I never lie." He mutters, though the words catch the boy's attention.

"You don't?" He asks. Tommy straightens his posture, a sheepish expression on his face. 

"No, I do, I do. I was joking." He explains, then sets the stuffed animal down on the kitchen counter so that way he can get himself a bowl of cereal. He turns his head back to the ghost every now and then as he talks, as if he'll disappear any second now. There’s a chance he might, Tommy thinks. It wouldn’t be the most surprising thing to happen this morning. "I actually lie quite a bit, really, 'cause it's funny. But this would be a really stupid thing to lie about. There was no build up, you know? A good joke always has build up."

The boy nods in understanding. "Yeah! You can't just say the punchline to everything, it won't make sense." He says, and Tommy gives him a noncommittal noise in response.

"No, actually, I knew a fella who could do that. Real funny guy." 

“Oh.”

”Yeah, yeah. He was one of Wilbur’s friends before we moved,” Tommy explains, and once he’s got himself a bowl of cereal, he goes to put the box away, stopping halfway. “Hey, you don’t eat, do you? You can’t really touch anything, so I wouldn’t think so, but you never know.” 

“That’s true, but I don’t think I can. I think it’ll end up just making a mess of things,” The boy says, and Tommy nods, putting the box back. “It’d probably just go right through me.”

Tommy walks over to the bar area, pulling a stool out for himself and sitting down for breakfast. The boy comes and joins him, sort of sitting in the stool next to him. Tommy doesn’t even bother trying to figure out how that’s possible. Instead, he eats the cereal, occasionally bringing up conversation with the boy. Techno and Phil are late sleepers, so apart from Wilbur, who’s gone up to his room, he doesn’t have to worry about anyone hearing them.

They end up chatting about what things had been like before they moved into the new house, and Tommy mentions Wil’s friend, Schlatt. That wasn’t really his name, it was his last name, but it was what everyone called him because he insisted it was cool. And it was pretty cool, or at least, Tommy thought so. He would probably do it too if he wouldn’t get mistaken for either of his brothers. 

Tommy asks the boy if he remembers any friends he might have had, and the boy gives it a second, then begins describing sounds instead. “Everything’s kind of blurry, really,” He explains. “But I remember a really deep voice. Or a really deep sound, I guess. I'm not entirely sure if it was a voice."

The conversation topic moves on from there, and after a few minutes, Tommy puts his empty bowl in the sink. He opens the cabinet underneath and searches through the cleaning products there, eventually pulling out some wood cleaner and a scrub brush. The conversation tapers off into a comfortable silence, the sound of bird songs filling the air between them. 

It takes Tommy around ten minutes to get dressed and gather up everything he needs. He takes the wood cleaner, a scrub brush, a duster, a small bucket, a hammer, some nails, and a sandwich for lunch. It's a tough fit in the spare backpack he has, but he manages it, and opts to keep the stuffed animal tucked safely in his arms. Just before he leaves, he writes a sticky note and sets it on the kitchen counter, a note for Phil once he wakes up.

From there, the day is Tommy’s, and he starts his walk to the tree house. He feels maybe a little silly holding the stuffed animal out in public, but it definitely isn’t the strangest thing he’s done, and definitely not the most embarrassing. That said, considering the fact he’s apparently having pleasant conversation with somebody nobody else can see, he’s sure it’s probably more strange than he initially thought.

”Do you recognize anything around us? This is the first time you’ve been outside my house since you appeared.” He asks curiously, and he can’t help the sort of fondness he feels when he sees the boy looking around. His eyes are wide with wonder, head turning as he tries to take everything in.

”Not really? Everything feels really familiar, but I don’t really recognize it either.” The boy answers, and as they pass under a tree, he stops and looks up at the different colored leaves. The ones on this tree are a bright orange, some of them a golden yellow. He reaches up to touch them, jumping up just slightly, only for his hand to phase right through the leaves. The boy pouts for a moment, but doesn’t let it drag him down too much. “It’s really pretty, though. It’s gorgeous.”

”You should see the clearing.” Tommy says, and now that the boy is back to walking, he speeds his pace back up to normal. The boy grins at him, speed walking so that he can keep pace.

”I’m excited!”

”Are you now?”

”Yeah!” It’s endearing, the way the boy smiles up at him. It makes Tommy’s chest flutter warmly. It’s sickeningly sweet, and Tommy debates poking fun at him just to see how he’ll react, but he bites his tongue as the boy continues. “It’s the one place I can kind of remember, you know? Not much, of course, but I remember it better than I do anything else.”

Tommy hums, taking in the surroundings. When he sees the name of the street, he smiles, looking back to the boy excitedly. "We're almost there. We just have to walk through the woods a bit." He says, taking a few steps into the forest. He glances over his shoulder every now and then to make sure the boy is still following. The sight is absolutely beautiful. If the boy was excited about the colors of the leaves before, he was smitten now.

His head was craned upwards, mouth slightly agape as he stared. The autumn leaves shine golden as the sun filters through them, little specks of light dotting the ground. It doesn't reflect off the boy, but instead passes through him, leaving some parts of him more transparent than others. The effect has him almost glowing. If the boy was corporeal, Tommy would shove him playfully. But for now, Tommy grins, picking up his pace and following the distant sound of the creek.

When they make it to the river, Tommy begins to hop between the rocks, the boy following along the banks. It's the same fun it had been before, but now, Tommy can't help but boast about his little jumps as if they're something impressive. The boy gives him a playful look as Tommy calls for his attention once again, and says, "You know, it really isn't that impressive."

"Yeah right," He scoffs, and when he goes to make the jump, he has to hold his arms out to the side so that he doesn't fall face first into the shallow water. He wavers for just a second, flushing as he hears the boy laugh at him. "I'd like to see you do any better." He huffs, indignant, and he watches the boy roll his eyes.

"I'm sure I could, but right now, I'm kind of incorporeal." He says, matter-of-fact-ly, in a way that makes Tommy want to ruffle his hair and push him. It's a shame the boy's a ghost. Tommy's kind of a touchy person, and there's nothing he'd love more than to be able to lay a hand on his new friend. To push him, or to take his hand, it didn't really matter right now. 

There's a fun sort of banter exchanged between them, until eventually, they find themselves at the clearing. It's the boy who notices first, Tommy far too invested in making sure he doesn't fall into the water. He gasps sharply, and Tommy has to extend his arms again to regain his balance, and when he looks up to tell the boy off, he sees him looking past him. He turns his head to see what he's looking at, and smiles widely once he sees the clearing.

The gentle breeze creates almost wave like ripples across the yellow-ish grass, branches rustling with gentle white noise. And, across from it all, is the tree house. An excitement bubbles up in his chest, and he quickly leaps to the opposite river bank. He looks over his shoulder, a cheeky grin on his face as he shouts, "Race you to the tree house!" 

There's a flabbergasted sort of stuttering behind him, and Tommy laughs as it quickly switches to flustered yelling. He runs as quick as he can, almost skidding to a halt at the base of the ladder. He sees the boy not too far behind him- the pull of the stuffed bee must have brought him closer than Tommy originally accounted for. He grins as he begins to climb the ladder, shifting the stuffed animal so that it won't fall.

He gets to the missing rung when he finds himself shivering violently, almost harsh enough to make him fall off the ladder. He shuts his eyes against it, and when the sensation passes, he finds himself looking up at the boy, who is perched smugly at the opening of the tree house. 

"You cheated- you can't just _go through_ me!" He says, indignant, and the boy smiles cheekily at him.

"Why not?"

Tommy wants to argue, but to be fair, the kid's got a point. But Tommy isn't about to admit that, not when the boy is staring at him with a grin that's pure mischief. So instead, he says, "Because it's not fair. You're all ghost-y and shit- you can fly! It's cheating."

The boy looks puzzled for a second, his head tilting just slightly. "I can't fly?" He says, tone full of confusion. It catches Tommy's interest, and he quirks a brow up at him.

"Really? Have you tried?" He asks, and an idea forms in his head. He does his best to keep his expression the same, but as the boy's eyebrows furrow at him, he's sure something must have slipped. Still, the boy shakes his head, and Tommy lets himself grin wickedly. "Well, there's only one way to find out!" He chimes, and before the boy can get much of a word in, Tommy leans back on the ladder and throws the bee as far as he can. He laughs as he hears the boy let out a small scream of surprise, and then nearly falls off the ladder as he sees his spectral visage go flying past him almost too fast to see. 

The boy groans from where the bee had landed, roughly a third of the way into the field. Tommy smiles at him mischievously, and even with the distance, he's sure he can see the boy glaring up at him. "You're actually the worst." He says, and Tommy laughs, almost roaring with it as he sees the boy huff with the same childish frustration. "I can't even pick up the bee- I'm stuck here!"

"Oh, right, right." Tommy says, hopping off the ladder and landing on the ground. He's choking back giggles by the time he makes his way back over to the boy. He picks up the bee and plucks away the few loose blades of grass, a wobbly sort of smile on his face as he looks back over to the boy. "We'll call it a tie, then?"

The boy's mouth parts with shock, and Tommy's cheeks hurt with how wide he's smiling. 


	4. Chapter 4

It takes a while to clean the tree house up. Tommy gets to work on the floors first, using the bucket he brought to gather water from the river. He has to go slowly up the ladder so that it doesn't spill on himself, and once he makes it to the top, he dumps the water out on the floor. He uses the scrub brush and wood cleaner to get to work, chatting with the boy as he goes. They talk about plans for the tree house, and Tommy explains how he'll start furnishing it once it's cleaned. 

The floor has the most grime out of everything, and Tommy has to take multiple breaks so that way he doesn't overwork himself. The pine scent of the cleaner is all encompassing, filling the air around them. It feels like he's taken a bite out of a pine tree, festering as a bitter taste in the back of his throat. It's probably concerning, but Tommy does his best to ignore it. He's definitely going to be having lunch out in the field though.

Once he's done with the floors, the wood is practically shining. He's added a layer of polish to prevent the wood from wearing down any worse than it already has. He lets it sit for a bit, then he begins working on the walls. It causes aches in his arms with how much he scrubs on the wood, and he has to take more frequent breaks now than he had before. The methodical movement is easy to lose himself to, and it’s only when he feels the sun beating down on his back does he consider stopping.

He takes in a breath and sets the brush down, standing up on slightly shaky legs. His knees ache with how long he’s been kneeling, and he uses the windowsill to stabilize himself. The sun is high in the sky when he looks out the window hole, beaming down so brightly on the grass that it feels almost painful to look at. He squints, a headache beginning to surface, likely from the harsh lighting and the constant intake of cleaning fumes.

He pulls back from the window with a sigh. He’s about to go and grab his sandwich from his backpack when he sees something a little strange, just off to the side of the window. He debates investigating it, before deciding he might as well do it now before he forgets what he even saw. His hand finds on odd groove on the wall, and he traces his thumb through it, picking out dirt and grime.

”Tommy, what are you doing?” The boy asks. He’s taken to sitting at the opening to the tree house, watching the grass blow with the breeze. Tommy wonders if you can get headaches as a ghost. He surely hopes not- it would make haunting Wilbur and Techno much more difficult.

”I think I’ve found something,” He mutters, brushing a bit of dirt off his thumb. He takes some of the spare water from the bucket, rinsing off the spot he’s been working on. “...Tubbo?”

“Yeah?”

The word is carved into the wood. It isn’t a particularly good job, which Tommy’s pretty sure is why he didn’t immediately see it. The letters are jagged, some almost cartoonishly taller than others. Tommy’s brows had furrowed the second he read them aloud, but as the boy answers him, his eyes widen and he looks at him. 

“That’s your name? Really?”

“Wait, what?” Tubbo asks. He turns his head to face Tommy, an awkward sort of half smile tracing his lips. The light from the sun goes straight through him, highlighting his transparency and making him appear almost golden.

“This was your tree house, right? We’re sure about that?” He asks. The boy looks puzzled now.

”I’m pretty sure, yeah.” The boy answers, and he pauses for a second, then adds, “Yeah, it definitely was. This was my tree house.”

”Then this is your name.” Tommy says, surprised. He’s sure he would be a bit more excited if the artificial pine scent wasn’t clouding his ability to think, but for now, he can still feel it distantly bubbling underneath his skin. It’s a tingly sort of energy coursing through him. Tommy can’t help the way he says, “What kind of a name is _Tubbo?”_

He hears the boy- Tubbo -give him a hearty laugh at his bewilderment, and Tommy finds himself becoming just a little more flustered. “Not that there’s anything wrong with it, of course, it’s just a really strange name. I mean, what kind of parents name their kid Tubbo? It’s- It’s odd.” He rambles, and Tubbo only continues to laugh at him.

“It’s definitely interesting, at least.” Tubbo says, nodding in agreement. His smile is shaky on his lips, like he’s fighting off more laughter. Tommy isn’t sure if it’s because of him, or if the boy is just happy to have a name now. He’s willing to bet more on the latter. 

“Sorry, the fucking fumes are getting to me.” He mutters. The boy smiles at him.

”No worries. You should probably take a break, though. You’ve been at this for hours now.” Tubbo says, and Tommy wants to reject the sentiment, but the ache he feels in his everywhere has him nodding in agreement. That had been his plan anyway; the only reason he wanted to say no was to brush off Tubbo’s concern. To avoid any sign of weakness. That said, he’s not too sure if the boy would be much use if he were to pass out from cleaning fumes.

”Yeah, alright. Wanna go have lunch in the field?” He asks, and Tubbo nods excitedly. Tommy smiles fondly, walking back towards his backpack. He retrieves his sandwich, as well as the stuffed bee. However, as he grabs the plush material, he can’t help the slight mischief that takes over him. He chucks the stuffed animal into the middle of the field, and Tubbo lets out another surprised yelp before being flung to the same location. 

Tommy can’t help but laugh to himself as he climbs down the ladder, already hearing Tubbo yelling from where he’s landed.

”You are _such_ an asshole!” He says, all huffy and annoyed, and Tommy grins with no remorse as he steps closer. The fresh air is definitely a relief, as is the gentle breeze that blows through the area. 

“Hey, no hard feelings, it’s just much easier to get down that way.” Tommy says, feigning indifference as he seats himself. Tubbo doesn’t sit down just yet- instead, he stands there, brows furrowed with half hearted annoyance. 

“Throwing me across a field is an easier way to get down?”

”Yeah,” Tommy says, wiping his hands off on his jeans before taking the sandwich out of its ziplock bag. He takes a bite. It tastes vaguely of pine. “I could have squished my sandwich.”

A simple sandwich has never tasted so good. Even with the distant pine flavoring, it’s like a piece of heaven, and the primary contribution to its holiness is the absolute ungodly expression on Tubbo’s face, blasphemous on all accords. It’s pure heresy and indignation, and Tommy tries so damn hard not to choke on the sandwich with laughter.

”You are unbelievable.” Tubbo resigns, seating himself down next to Tommy. It’s a little disorienting to look at, since some of the taller grasses shoot straight through his chest, partly visible in the transparency of his figure. The boy sighs, laying down, and more grass passes through him like an neglected garden. He lays there for a moment, and the two of them sit in tranquil silence.

The birds sing an uneven melody. The grass blows with a faint brushing sound, while the trees almost roar in the same tune, dry leaves brushing against each other. The symphony is completed by the gentle babble of the river, a concert left only for the two of them. It’s so, so wonderful.

Tommy’s about half way through his sandwich when Tubbo speaks again. 

“Man, I miss being able to touch things.” He says, and when Tommy looks at him, he sees the boy playing with the bits of grass that sprout from his chest. His hand phases right through each of them, but the breeze creates the illusion that he’s moved them. “I remember this being very soft.” 

“You were able to touch the ladder.” Tommy says, becoming a little confused at the realization. 

“Yeah, but that’s because I was climbing up it.”

”Does that matter?” Tommy asks, and then, Tubbo stops in his movements to think on it. “You had to touch it to pull yourself up, since you can’t fly.” He can’t see a reason why the boy wouldn’t be able to touch things, but was still able to touch the ladder. Maybe he wouldn’t be able to pull the ladder, but he could climb it? “Maybe you just need more practice with it. Become more powerful or something.”

”And how do I do that?” The boy asks. He doesn’t sound sarcastic or rude, but more genuinely invested in whatever Tommy’s saying. It’s almost desperate, and the idea of that has Tommy quickly answering:

”I don’t- I don’t know.”

”Oh.” 

The boy looks a little dejected at that, and Tommy feels a little bad for getting his hopes up. While he’s sure that Tubbo could probably touch things if he tried hard enough, he doesn’t exactly have any experience with ghosts to confirm that. They sit like that for a moment. It’s still quiet and peaceful, but now there’s this stiff sort of tension in the air that Tommy would really like to get rid of. He lets it be for a minute or so, then speaks again.

”Can you try remembering things? You said you remembered the grass being soft, and that the tree house is yours.” Tommy says. The boy hums, and there’s another few seconds of silence before he speaks again. 

“I remember being here a lot. I remember there being a bunch of bees, too. They’re probably gone now, since it’s autumn.” Tubbo says, and Tommy cracks a smile at him. 

“You like bees, don’t you?” 

Tubbo smiles for a second and nods. “I do, I do. They’re very interesting. Did you know they dance to communicate?” He says, and Tommy quirks a brow.

”They do?” He asks, genuinely curious, and the boy nods excitedly. “How the fuck do you know that?”

How he asks that gets a nice laugh out of him. “I have no idea.” He says, and he’s beaming, almost radiant with how the sun falls through him. Tommy finds himself laughing too, an unbridled joy bubbling up from within him, to the point where tears are almost sprouting from the corners of his eyes and he’s gasping for breath. It wasn’t even that funny, what either of them said, but the giggly happiness that forms between them is enough to keep it going. 

“You know, Tubbo, one of my old foster homes had a lavender bush,” Tommy says, voice breathless and still a bit uneven. He has to stop himself from wheezing out another laugh, just barely managing to hold himself together when Tubbo looks at him, a lopsided grin on his face. “It had a lavender bush, right? And I would sit outside on the steps, and there would be a bunch of bees around the lavender.”

”Well that sounds nice.” Tubbo muses, and Tommy nods in agreement.

”It was, it was. I could sit out there for hours, I reckon, just watching them. And I would- And I would think,” He finds himself giggling here a little, and he takes a solid breath so that he can continue. It backfires, though, and he immediately starts wheezing with laughter. Tubbo joins in, and that only makes it worse, and Tommy’s throat almost hurts with how hard he’s laughing.

”What? What would you think?” Tubbo asks, pressing on, and Tommy has to suck in little gasps of air now. When he feels he might have gotten a hold of himself, he lets out a long breath, almost groaning with it. He clears his throat, chuckling to himself.

”I would think, _‘If only I could mind control you. How powerful would I be?’”_ He says, lowering his voice a little, and Tubbo chokes out a surprised laugh. It eggs Tommy on, and he continues immediately, though he’s unable to keep himself from laughing throughout it. _“‘How powerful would I be, if I could- if I could mind control bees.’”_

”That’s so weird.” Tubbo says. He’s smiling so hard his cheeks are bunched up near his eyes. It’s nice. “Why would you think that? Why was that your first thought?”

”I don’t know, I don’t know,” Tommy murmurs, voice strained and exhausted from his earlier wheezing. He keeps the conversation going, though. It’s a lovely experience, and he’s not quite ready to let it go yet. “There were a lot of them, though. I bet I’d be pretty powerful.”

The rest of the conversation comes comfortably, and they find themselves talking in that spot for nearly an hour. Tommy eventually joins Tubbo on his back, laying down in the grass next to him. The boy was right- the grass is soft around him. The fresh air that blows through the area slowly but surely clears the pine induced headache, and though the sun shines down on them, the breeze remedies that as well. 

Still, there's work to be done, and after enough time has passed for Tommy to grow antsy again, he stands up and gets back to work. The polish on the floor of the tree house has settled, giving it a nice shine. Tommy starts on the wall that has Tubbo's name etched into it, splashing it with water and scrubbing away the dirt and grime. Once he's done, the etching of the boy's name is much clearer than it had been before. 

The process repeats on the next three walls, and once they're done, it's later in the day. Tommy sighs, packing up the contents of his bag. He's just about to tell the boy they should leave when Tubbo looks at him, smiling. "Hey Tommy, do you want to carve your name into the wall?" He asks, and there's a second where Tommy's brows furrow before raising up in surprise. Tubbo has a fond look to him, amused by his reaction.

"Really? I can?" 

"Yeah! You're the one who cleaned it up after all. It can be our tree house." Tubbo insists. A grin forms over Tommy's face. He would have thought it to be disrespectful under the assumption that the boy had...well, had died. But, considering his ghost is looking at him with that enthusiastic smile, as if Tommy holds the world in his hands, Tommy gets to work pulling one of the nails from his backpack. He sets his things down and walks over to where Tubbo's name is carved, taking a few minutes to carve his own underneath. It's not the best job- the m's are as tall as the T -but by the end of it, his name is carved right underneath Tubbo's.

The sun has started to lower on the horizon. A warm shine pokes through the trees, the sky almost orange in color. Everything- the leaves, the grass, the tree house, _everything_ is enveloped by it's glow. It leaves Tommy's face glowing and Tubbo's entire form wonderfully radiant. It lights up the trees, their canopies creating little spots of sunlight on the ground ahead of them. The walk back home is pleasant, and Tommy and Tubbo enjoy each and every second of it. A wonderful peace after a long day of work, satisfaction running through Tommy like blood in his veins. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so glad you all are enjoying this! Apart from all the war fanfics and all the romance-y ones, I wanted to add in a fun little AU for everyone to enjoy. Your comments give me life. 
> 
> Also if any one of you does art for this please tag me on insta @happily.nervous or @happily_collections and I will cry.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh boy you guys are in for a treat :3

It's early evening by the time they arrive home. Tommy kicks his shoes off by the front door and heads to the kitchen, kneeling in front of the sink. He opens the cabinet under the sink and begins putting back the cleaning supplies. He's just about done when he hears footsteps behind him, followed by a sarcastic voice. "Have fun with your ghost friend?" Wilbur asks sarcastically, and Tommy rolls his eyes, looking over his shoulder. Wilbur's stood maybe three feet behind him, hair unkempt and dressed in the clothes he wore this morning, as if he stayed in bed all day.

"As a matter of fact, I did." Tommy answers with a huff, standing up and closing the cabinets. He turns, keeping his gaze set on Wilbur as he sits on the kitchen counter. "And his name is Tubbo." Wilbur's eyes narrow at him.

"Tommy," He says, his voice annoyed and with an almost angry edge. It's unwarranted, Tommy thinks. He's done much more annoying things to his older brother in the past. This is definitely not the worst he's done. "This is a stupid prank. It's not funny."

"It isn't a prank." Tommy answers. Hell, if he looks to the side, he can even see Tubbo. He's standing there awkwardly in the kitchen, watching the whole ordeal with visible concern. Tommy allows his expression to relax a little, a reassurance to the boy that this is fine- it's almost typical between the two. When he looks back to Wilbur, his expression tightens again, facing that same look of annoyance. "I'm being serious, Wilbur. Whether you believe me or not is up to you."

He pushes himself off the counter, grabbing his backpack from where he left it on the floor, as well as the stuffed bee. He makes sure his shoulder hits Wil's arm as he walks out of the kitchen, and about halfway to the stairs he can hear Wilbur start muttering to himself as he searches through the pantry. He only lets himself have a reaction once he makes it to his room, setting the backpack down by the door and chucking the bee onto his bed. From there, he walks towards the side of his bed and lets himself fall on top of it, arms splayed out as he groans into the fabric. 

After a few seconds, there's a chill on the back of his neck, and he shivers violently. "What's wrong with him?" He hears Tubbo ask, and Tommy lifts his head and takes an almost huffy sort of breath. He rolls over onto his back, now seeing that Tubbo has sat next to him on the bed. His expression looks slightly concerned, but more confused than anything. 

"He's just upset that we had to move during his last year, is all. He's been real pissy ever since he found out." Tommy answers, brows furrowed in annoyance. "And now, I guess he thinks I decided to play some joke on him or whatever, and I'm _not.”_ He sits up and gestures to him. “Obviously."

”Well, I mean, it is pretty hard to believe.” Tubbo says, and Tommy wants to groan.

”I know it is, but even if I was joking, he wouldn’t be this annoyed about it normally.” He explains. “I can’t even prove to him that you’re real because he’ll just get upset again.”

”Oh,” Tubbo says, getting the picture, and Tommy nods in mutual understanding of their predicament. Tommy’s the only one who can see Tubbo, and Tubbo can’t exactly touch or interact with things. At least, not yet. Still, even if he could, there was nothing to say that Wilbur would believe him then. He was more focused on being upset and angry and making it everyone else’s problem. Tubbo gives him a sympathetic look, easing away the frustrated scowl on Tommy’s face. “I’m sure he’ll come around.”

”He will,” Tommy agrees, sighing as he lays down on the bed. He looks at Tubbo expectantly, and the boy follows, laying down next him. “Until then, it’ll just really, really suck.”

Luckily, the conversation doesn't come up at dinner, even though Tommy brings the stuffed animal and sets it on the kitchen counter so that way Tubbo isn't left alone in his room. Wilbur glares at both him and the stuffed animal, but no comment about the ghost haunting it is made. Instead, Tommy receives compliments on his work from both Phil and Techno, and not much more is said on it other than that. 

They talk about their days, and Tommy leaves out any mention of his ghostly friend when he recounts his time cleaning the tree house. He switches the topic before Wil can get a word in on the matter, opting to bring up how Techno's roots are growing in, and if the man would dye his hair a color other than pink for once. "No, but I think I'm going to go a shade darker," Is Techno's answer, and if he notices Wilbur's visible agitation, he pays it no mind. "It kind of washed out lighter than I expected."

Once dinner is done, Tommy does the dishes and sets them in the dishwasher. He takes the stuffed bee back upstairs to his room, sitting it back on the bed. “Do you want me to put on a video or something so that you have something to do?” Tommy asks, gathering up his pajamas so he can take a shower. He isn’t sure if he still smells like pine, or if he’s actually going insane. Both are viable options.

”Sure. Any video will do.” Tubbo answers, so Tommy nods, going to his computer and pulling up his YouTube. He chooses a video at random, and ends up giving the boy a dark humor compilation. He hesitates on it for a second, but considering the shocked yet wild laughter that erupts from him after the first joke, Tommy’s sure he’ll be fine. 

The shower water is warm, and relieves the tension he's gained over the course of the day. He scrubs himself down with soap until he’s sure the smell is gone, and he changes into his pajamas in the bathroom. He’s got to think of ways to entertain his new friend, he thinks as he pulls on his sleep shirt, brushing his hair out of his face. Tubbo doesn’t exactly have much room to roam, and he can’t even touch things either. The best Tommy can do is turn on the television or set him up on his computer, leaving the auto play on. 

He can't bring him to school either. He got into a fight a few days ago, and he's not about to let himself be known as the kid who brings a stuffed animal to school. He's sixteen- it would be ridiculous, and he would have a much higher chance of looking crazy. He's still thinking on it when he walks back into his room, the boy laugh as he watches the video. He looks over at Tommy once he walks in, and smiles, shifting over so that way Tommy can sit beside him. 

Tommy takes it, pushing away his thoughts for now and sitting near Tubbo so that way he can watch the remainder of the video. It’s only five minutes or so, but it has both of them laughing by the end of it. “Do you want to watch something else, or do you want to watch me play a game?” He asks.

”A game sounds interesting.” Tubbo answers, and Tommy nods. He opens up the game he’d been playing the day before, launching into a few different mini games. He explains the rules and mechanics for each one, and the second both of them are comfortable with the game’s mechanics, they start a running commentary. Tommy’s not exactly the best, but he’d like to think he’s at least half decent. Unfortunately, he’s out performed in this lobby, and Tubbo laughs at him as his character falls into the void. “You are so shit at this.” He muses, and Tommy almost yells at him with faux frustration.

Eventually, Tommy ends up closing the game with the excuse that he’s been tired from all the work he’s done. The ghost pouts and tries to get him back into the game, and Tommy assures him that he is genuinely tired and should probably be getting some rest. He turns off his computer and heads towards his bed, lifting the sheets over himself. He looks towards Tubbo, who’s standing at the side of his bed, staring at him. 

“Can ghosts sleep?” Tommy asks, curious, and the boy shrugs.

”I have no idea. I woke up around the same time you did.” 

Tommy nods, processing the information. Then, he scoots over, and pats the open spot next to him. “I can’t exactly put the covers over you, and you might not even be able to sleep, but you can at least lay down.” Tommy explains, and his met with brief surprise. It melts away quickly though, until the boy’s lips are pulled into a warm smile as he joins Tommy on the bed. The spot next to him grows colder, and Tommy puts just a little more distance between them before getting comfortable. 

He’s turned on his side, back facing away from the boy. If not for the faint glow from his clock, Tubbo would be completely invisible next to Tommy, his presence reduced to a mere chill. Instead, it’s just barely there, features visible enough if Tommy were to squint. When he’s sure he’s gained some small semblance of privacy, Tommy grabs his cassette player and his headphones. He plays one of Wilbur’s songs as he goes to sleep, the sound of the tape muffled by the distance during the time of recording.

The next day is mostly uneventful. Wil doesn't even come downstairs the next morning. Tommy leaves another sticky note for Phil, and he and Tubbo take their walk to the tree house. Tubbo apparently _can_ sleep, which is good. It means he doesn't have to worry about growing bored during the roughly eight hours that Tommy and everyone else is asleep. As they walk to the clearing, Tommy begins collecting a few thicker sticks in his arms, making sure to get a variety of sizes. Tubbo questions him about it by the time he's got a decent handful, and Tommy informs him that it's to replace the missing rung on the ladder.

It takes a minute, but eventually Tommy finds a sturdy enough stick to fit the gap in the ladder. He holds it there with one hand, and with a bit of struggle, manages to nail in one side. He does the next side with a bit more ease, and then tests it out, finding it sturdy enough to hold his weight. He doesn't exactly have anyone else to test out the ladder, but as long as nobody else comes to the clearing, he supposes it's fine for now. It's better than a missing rung, after all.

The tree house is just as clean as Tommy had left it, once he clears out a few leaves that had worked their way in overnight. The overwhelming pine scent has cleared out, allowing Tommy to breathe without feeling suffocated. It's nice, and Tommy begins to make a mental list of furniture and things he should bring to the tree house. As he does, he mentions making a new flag, and Tubbo cocks his head curiously. "What kind of flag?" He asks, and Tommy shifts his backpack a little so he can show Tubbo one of the patches sewn on it.

"I used to have a fort in the woods before we moved," He explains. "Wilbur helped me build it. We called it a new country and named it L'manburgh. I forgot the flag there before we moved." Truthfully, Tommy had been very sad that he'd left the old flag. He should ask Phil to take him for a drive to go get it, if it was still there. "But this could be New L'manburgh, with you and me."

"Are you sure?" Tubbo asks, and he has this hopeful look on his face that makes Tommy grin. 

"Yeah! You can even help me design a new flag for it." He adds, and the boy practically beams at him. If he goes and gets the old flag, he can hang it up somewhere in his room, Tommy supposes. This would be a new L'manburgh, for him and Tubbo. It was Tubbo's tree house, after all, he deserved to have some say in the country. They sit and chat for a bit, discussing different flag designs, and eventually come up with one where the yellow x and the yellow outline of the black triangle would be replaced by a solid yellow heart. Tommy laughs at the suggestion at first, but when Tubbo gives him an unsure look, he insists that it's a good idea. 

Evening comes with darkened skies. Bird songs turn to cricket chirps as Tubbo and Tommy walk their way home, plans for the week laid out in their minds. Tubbo won't be coming to school with Tommy, they decided during their talks at New L'manburgh. At least, not yet. He can't wander far from the stuffed animal, and there's no way Tommy can bring it with him without the risk of someone taking it or damaging it. So, for now, Tubbo will spend the week day mornings in Tommy's room, watching videos on his computer with the auto play on.

This plan goes well for the most part. Tubbo greets Tommy enthusiastically every day after school, and they both find out that the boy can now go just a little bit farther from Tommy's room. Tubbo's also been practicing flying, and while it's more of slight delay to his falls, it's something new and interesting that the boy is excited to tell him about. He also claims that he can move things a little, though Tommy has to hide his snickering when he sees his face scrunch up in focus and frustration. Come Wednesday, Tommy approaches Phil in the living room, smiling a little when he sees Tubbo's spectral form sat next to him, watching whatever show Phil has on.

"Hey, Phil?" Tommy asks, and the man in question turns his head so he can look at him. "I was wondering if you could drive me back to where Wil and I used to hang out in the woods. I left the flag there before we moved, and it's kind of far." He says, and Phil gives him a soft smile.

"Sure, do you want to head out now?" Phil asks, and Tommy glances at where Tubbo is still sat on the couch, now watching their conversation. He gives Tommy an assuring thumbs up, and when Tommy looks back to Phil, he has a bit of a sheepish smile on his face.

"Can we?"

"Of course," He says, chuckling to himself at the uncharacteristic meekness to Tommy's question. Tommy grins widely as Phil stands up from the couch, turning off the television. He cups a hand to his mouth and looks in the direction of the stairs. "Boys, Tommy and I are heading out. We'll be back soon." He yells, and he's met with two distant and muffled voices. He turns to Tommy and eyes him up and down, then adds, "You should go get a jacket. It's getting colder out."

"Right, on it!" Tommy answers, and he quickly runs up the stairs to go grab his old bomber jacket from his closet. It's a pleasant brown color, with another L'manburgh patch sewn into the arm in place of an American flag one. A much better substitute, Tommy thinks as he shrugs it over his shoulder. He takes a quick look around his room as he closes the closet doors, and he can already see exactly where he's going to hang the flag on his wall. It's perfect, and with that in mind, he runs back down the stairs and meets Phil by the door. He's given a smile, and the two of them head out to Phil's car, Tommy hopping shotgun.

They listen to a few Bruce Springsteen and Elton John songs as they drive near their old neighborhood. It would be nostalgic if not for the fact they moved to the new house only a week prior. At some point, Tommy starts giving Phil more direct instructions, until he recognizes a crossing and asks Phil to pull over. He does, leaving his hazards on, and Tommy swiftly unbuckles his seat belt and runs into the woods. They can't stay parked there for long, after all, and Tommy isn't about to make them get in any trouble.

Footfalls are almost muscle memory as he sprints through the woods, avoiding roots. Each step echoes with the crunch of dried leaves, until eventually Tommy spots the small clearing. The hut is still there, just as he left it. It's not the best constructed, but it was one of the first things Tommy made that he was proud of. He smiles when he sees it, and grins even wider once he spots the flag. He speed walks up to it, carefully unhooking it from it's place and bunching it up. He takes his time when he walks back to the car, looking around him at the old woods.

When he breaks the tree line, he sees Phil waiting for him outside the car, a fond look on his face once he spots him. He opens the passenger door for Tommy, and he practically runs inside the car, feeling relief at the warmth. He's unfolding the flag when Phil opens the door to the driver's seat, smile almost aching on his face as they drive back home. When they stop at a light, Phil looks at the flag and then to him.

"So you got the flag from L'manburgh?" Phil says, and Tommy nods happily. He hadn't been worried about the possibility of it being missing or ruined, but still, the fact that it isn't is relieving. When Phil speaks again, his voice sounds both nostalgic and concerned. "I remember you and Wil would hang out there for hours in the summer. I had to pick you up sometimes because you didn't realize how late it was."

"Yeah," Tommy says, and he can't deny the wistful nostalgia that washes over him. "Wil helped me build the shack. Him and Techno would sometimes duel with sticks they found." Tommy adds, and the light turns green ahead of them. Phil notices, turning his attention back to the road and driving forward. The conversation hangs heavy in the air, but it isn't brought up again. They drive the rest of the way home without another word, songs playing on the radio. When they park at the new house, Tommy unbuckles his seat belt and smiles fondly. "Thanks Dad." He says, voice warm and fond before he heads to the front door.

He heads back up the stairs, adjusting his hold on the old flag, and as he reaches his bedroom door he hears faint music. When he opens it, curious now, he sees Tubbo looking at him with wide eyes like he'd just been caught. He's kneeling on Tommy's bed, and next to him is Tommy's cassette player, in the middle of playing one of Wilbur's songs. Tommy flushes a little at that, quickly closing the door behind him and turning back to face the boy. "That's my cassette, " He says, shocked, and he's not sure what to say but he feels like he has to say _something._ "It's- That's private."

"I'm sorry, I was curious." Tubbo apologizes immediately, and he looks rather sad at Tommy's disapproval. Tommy's brows furrow and the boy shrinks under his gaze, relaxing just a little when Tommy sighs.

"No, no, it's alright. I suppose I should have told you that." Tommy murmurs. He then realizes something, head tilting slightly to the side as he stares at the ghost. "How did you even get it going?"

At the question, Tubbo practically _beams._ "I was able to press the buttons!" He informs enthusiastically, and then, as if Tommy won't believe him, he pushes the pause button and the music stops. Tommy's mouth drops open, and Tubbo grins at him with a smile so wide that his cheeks bunch up near his eyes, causing little creases in the corners of them. "See, I've been practicing! I still can't pick it up, but I can push the buttons."

"That's awesome!" Tommy exclaims excitedly. Tubbo nods, and pushes the play button, one of Wilbur's songs emitting from the machine. They sit together on Tommy’s bed, listening to the song together, and as the cassette ends, Tubbo holds his finger down on the rewind button. There’s a comfortable silence between them, and then Tubbo looks at him, hesitant before speaking.

”So... what makes this so private?” He asks, and Tommy feels a little awkward about it. He feels the tips of his ears turn pink as Tubbo continues though, adding, “You listen to it every night, almost.”

”Yeah,” Tommy says, stretching out the word as if that will be a satisfactory answer. It doesn’t work, and the ghost is still staring at him expectantly. He sucks in a breath like it’ll be his last. “Those are some of Wilbur’s songs. He doesn’t know I recorded him singing them.” Tommy explains, and Tubbo’s mouth forms a small ‘o’. “When I first got here, he and I didn’t really get along. I could hear him playing songs at night, though, and I started sitting outside his door to listen to him,” It sounds embarrassing to say out loud, and Tommy closes his eyes as if that’ll help. It does, somewhat. “He almost caught me one time, though, so I figured it was probably better to just record them so that I wouldn’t get caught.”

”Is that why it sounds all muffled?” Tubbo asks, and Tommy nods his head.

”Yeah. There’s some asmr videos like that online. It’s kind of relaxing.” He explains. There’s a moment of silence, and then Tubbo speaks again, voice soft and kind in a way that’s relieving.

”Well, don’t worry, I won’t tell him,” Tubbo says, and then, quickly, as if the realization just strikes him, adds, “I can’t, actually. I literally can’t.”

The way his voice shifts around the realization has Tommy almost snorting with laughter, and when he opens his eyes, he meets Tubbo’s easy smile with one of his own. That night, when the L’manburgh flag is hung up on his wall and the two of them are heading to sleep, Tommy leaves the headphones unplugged and lets the song play. He can hear Tubbo humming along, and it’s nice, blending in well with the muffled singing and cricket chirping of the night. 

The next afternoon is spent sewing up a new L’manburgh flag, following a new pattern and cutting new slips of fabric. The cassette is playing, loud enough for them to hear it but not for anyone else. Tubbo’s listened to it enough times to pick up a favorite song, and as Tommy stitches the new flag together, his spectral friend pushes the button on the cassette player so that the music can keep going. The music is pleasant and Tommy feels wonderful sharing it with someone else. Plus, he thinks as he accidentally stabs himself in the finger again, it makes the whole process just a little less frustrating.

”Your brother plays guitar, then?” Tubbo comments, and Tommy has to pull his punctured finger out from his mouth to respond.

”Yeah. He plays guitar, and I can play piano.” Tommy answers, and the boy gives a thoughtful hum. He goes back to stitching up the flag, running his hand along the fabric to make sure his stitching is well done. The music starts up again as Tubbo presses the play button, and it plays out once more, Wilbur’s songs filling the air around them. Tommy’s almost done with the flag by the time the whole cassette plays out again, and as Tubbo presses the rewind button on the player, the conversation picks back up.

”I think I used to play guitar.” Tubbo says, and Tommy pauses in his stitching to give the boy a curious look. He looks as if he’s thinking on something, very focused on the matter, until he gives a slight nod. “Yeah, maybe. I might’ve played piano too.”

”Really?” Tommy asks. It’s not that he doubts the boy, but rather, he’s surprised he’s managed to remember much of anything. It’s good. 

Tubbo gives him a nod, and Tommy comes up with an idea. “How about this- tomorrow, I’ll come home quicker than them, yeah? And I can take Wil’s guitar from his room, and you can see if you can play it.” Tommy offers, and Tubbo’s eyebrows raise at him.

”I can’t even lift the cassette player, Tommy.” He says, and Tommy shrugs. 

“Well, you don’t have to hold the guitar. I can set it up, and you can pluck the strings.” Tommy offers, and still, Tubbo looks a bit unsure at the offer. “As long as I run home, we have about ten or twenty minutes between Wilbur coming back to his room. That’s more than enough time to see if you can play the guitar, and then, we can head out to New L’manburgh and hang up the flag.”

Tubbo thinks on it for a moment, then nods, offering Tommy a small smile. “Alright then, if you’re sure.”

When Tommy comes home the next day, he’s out of breath. He heads to the kitchen and shouts a hello to Phil, grabbing a drink from the fridge. He chugs it down and tosses away the can, panting and catching his breath for a moment. He’s excited, but with Wil’s attitude recently, he’s got to make good use of his time. Once he feels like he can move without keeling over in the middle of the kitchen, he heads up the stairs. His footfalls grow lighter as he approaches Wilbur’s room, and though it’s empty, Tommy moves slowly and quietly, like he’ll be caught any second now.

He opens the door slowly, wincing at the creak it gives. Wil’s room is neat and tidy, without much personalization. It almost looks like Wil doesn’t even live here- like it’s a guest room he just happens to be borrowing. Tommy doesn’t think on it much, and instead eyes up the guitar set up in the corner of his room. He approaches it carefully, lifting it up from the stand. Once he’s got it in his hand, he practically bolts out of Wilbur’s room and into his own, shutting his door behind him. His chest is heaving and he pants, back pressed up against the door. Tubbo’s sitting on his bed expectantly, giving him a confused look.

”I got it.” Tommy says, breathless. He’s smiling a little, though the boy still looks concerned. He sucks in a breath, moving towards his bed and setting the instrument up so that Tubbo can play it. The boy looks between Tommy and the guitar with a sort of uncertainty, then reaches out to touch it. Tommy grins as he sees the string lower under the boy’s touch, and smiles even wider when the gentle brush of his fingers results in a soft strum of the chord. “There you go, that’s it.”

With the encouragement, the boy shifts so that way he can get a better hold. He begins trying different chords, and Tommy can’t help but smile as he watches the boy’s tongue stick out of the corner of his mouth. He’s focusing, strumming away and trying to pick up a melody. He hits an awful sounding chord, and he shifts his fingers to try again. “Maybe I was still learning the guitar.” Tubbo mutters, trying once again to play the chord. It’s amusing, and he almost gets it, but when he strums again it results in that same awful sounding noise. 

“Well, you can practice, while I do some homework.” Tommy says, and he’s met with a nod. Tubbo’s only half paying attention to him, focusing more so on getting the guitar chords right. With a hum, Tommy begins working on his homework- most of it he’s been putting off in favor of hanging out with the boy. They sit like that for a while, peaceful, and soon Tubbo manages to pick up something of a melody. 

The knock that startles through his room makes him almost jump out of his skin. “Yeah, one second,” He yells, setting down his pencil and standing up. Tubbo stops his strumming as Tommy goes and opens the door. He’s expecting Phil, but when he opens the door and sees Wilbur instead, his back instantly goes rigid. “Oh, uh, hey, Wil.” He greets, keeping his voice just loud enough so that Tubbo can hear as well.

Tommy didn’t hear him come home- he wasn’t paying close enough attention. And now, the man is standing right in front of him. Nervous tension runs through him, and as he looks up to meet Wil’s gaze, he finds the man staring at him with a sort of guilt on his face. It’s confusing, and it doesn’t help Tommy’s nerves in the slightest. 

“Hey Tommy,” He greets. He sounds apprehensive about the whole situation. “Have I been mean to you, recently?” He asks, and Tommy’s completely lost now.

”What?” He asks, and when he sees Wilbur look relieved, he quickly amends himself. “I mean, yeah, you’ve been a real dickhead ever since we moved. But why are you asking me?”

Wil’s shoulders slump with dejection, and okay, maybe it was a little harsh, but it was true. “Well, Phil told me you went back to L’manburgh the other day,” He explains, and Tommy feels his stomach sink. Oh. That would explain it. “And he told me you missed hanging out with me.”

”It’s fine, Wil, really.” Tommy tries to assure, but he just shakes his head at him. 

“No, it isn’t,” Wil says instead, and the intensity in his gaze makes Tommy want to squirm underneath it. It’s too much emotion for him to really handle, and it’s making him a bit uncomfortable. “I think- I think I get it. The whole ghost thing was like a- like a metaphor, I guess, or a way to get my attention, right?”

”Wilbur, no, I was being _serious,”_ Tommy says, and he’s almost offended by how presumptuous Wil’s being. It’s annoying, how many assumptions he’s making, as if he’s spent enough time with Tommy recently to have any idea on how he’s feeling. It’s annoying that he assumes the ‘ghost thing’ is a lie and a coping mechanism, like Tommy’s gone deranged without the company of his older brother. “I have proof too.”

”Sure you do.” Is Wilbur’s answer, and the pity in his voice has Tommy bunching his hands up into fists. 

“I’m serious, Wil! I wouldn’t lie about something like this.” He insists, and then he gives a huff, grabbing Wil’s arm tightly. “Look, c’mon.” He says, tugging Wilbur into his room and shutting the door behind him. He walks towards the bed, sitting next to Tubbo and the guitar. The second Wil’s eyes land on it, they widen. 

“You’ve stolen my guitar?!” Wil asks, his voice raising in volume, and Tommy’s brows furrow at him in full annoyance.

”Only for a moment, now can you shut up for a second so that way he can play it?”

Wil shakes his head in disbelief, face turning pink. “No, Tommy, that’s too far. If you wanted my attention, you could have just _asked._ But instead, you race home and sneak into my room like a little gremlin child-“

”I don’t need your attention!” Tommy yells, his volume matching Wil’s in a defensive manner. His chest feels tight, and he knows what he’s just said is a lie, but it’s easier to say than to tell Wilbur just how much he’s missed him. Not just during the move, but in the passed few months too. “Can you just shut up for five seconds instead of making everything about yourself-“

They’re both cut off by a loud strum of the guitar. It makes Tommy jump out of his skin, blinking rapidly to clear the tears swelling in his eyes. He turns his head to face Tubbo, and sees the boy not even looking at him. Instead, his head is hung as he continues strumming the guitar, the sounds eventually forming the stiff melody of _Mary Had a Little Lamb._

“Tommy...” Tommy looks back to Wilbur when he speaks, and when he realizes he’s let a few tears slip, he quickly wipes them away. Wilbur’s glancing between him and Tubbo, eyes wide and mouth agape, stunned. There’s that same terrible chord again, and it makes the hair on Tommy’s arm raise.

”Sorry,” Says Tubbo, voice soft next to him. “I-I wasn’t sure what to do.”

”Tommy, you see him too, right?” Wil asks, eyes now wholly trained on the spot near his guitar, and Tommy’s eyebrows raise.

”Wait, you see him now? It- it isn’t just me?” 

Tubbo lifts his head at that, eyes wide as he stares at Wilbur. The man slowly nods, and a shaky smile forms on Tommy’s lips. He starts laughing, starting from an awkward little snort and growing until it’s bubbling out him like pure joy. It’s a golden sound that rings through the air, and when he’s done, he’s grinning so wide it hurts. “Wilbur, I’d like you to meet Tubbo.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me, seeing the word count of Heatwaves: eh, yeah, I can try replicating that
> 
> Seriously though, this chapter was a lot, and I hope you guys liked it!


	6. Chapter 6

Dinner that night is going to be horribly, horribly awkward. Wilbur and Tommy had quickly reached the conclusion that they should introduce Tubbo to Phil and Techno later that night, that way they could explain everything without having to repeat it. And, because of Tubbo's apparent visibility, he and Tommy decide against visiting New L'manburgh today. So, the minutes crawl until dinner crawl by, the three of them spending the time in Tommy's room. They watch videos to try and take their minds off it, sitting in Tommy's bed or in his computer chair to watch. Despite their attempts at calming themselves, Tommy can't help the way he seizes with apprehension when Phil calls them down for dinner.

He's frozen for a moment. He hears Techno's footsteps go down the stairs, and then, he lets out a long exhale. Tension coils in him tightly, making every nerve feel like a live wire. He looks towards Tubbo and Wil, and finds the pair looking back at him for direction. "Right, um," He starts, his voice awkward and stiff. He swallows, clearing his throat, and goes again. "Tubbo, you should probably just follow me. We'll- We'll figure it out as we go along. I'm sure we'll be fine."

It's a terrible effort to calm the three of them, but it does it's job in giving them a direction. Wil heads towards Tommy's door, opening it before turning back to face the other two. "I'll head downstairs first, and then you two can follow me, alright?" He asks, and they both nod. Tommy waits for Wil to get a few steps out from his room before pushing himself off his bed. His back is rigid, breaths a little more shallow than they had been before. He keeps his gaze even ahead of him, trying to work out what to say to Phil and Techno- how does he even _explain_ this-

He shivers and jerks his hand away. Confused, he turns his head, and sees that Tubbo's hand is half lifted. The boy looks both concerned and a little guilty, but as he meets Tommy's expression, he offers a sheepish smile. "Sorry, I just... It'll be okay, Tommy." He assures, and Tommy lets his expression calm, forcing himself to take a deep breath. Tubbo smiles at that, and then, his hand comes back to Tommy's. It's that same cold chill from before, with a feather-light pressure to accompany it. It tingles in his palm, and as he tries to squeeze Tubbo's hand, his own passes straight through. But it's something soft and there, so long as Tommy holds his hand still. 

Tommy and Tubbo approach the kitchen and find Wil standing in the doorway. He looks back upon hearing footsteps grow nearer, and opens up a space for Tommy to stand. He sees Phil turn his head from where he’s serving dinner, a smile stretching across his lips at the sight of them. “There you two are,” He greets fondly. He then lowers his voice a little, just enough to where he assumes Techno can’t hear him, and asks, “So, have you two made up yet?”

Tommy visibly cringes, and he can see Wil’s hand raise to pull his bangs back from his face. “Well...” He starts, voice turning high and squeaky, and upon seeing the confusion and worry in Phil’s expression, Tommy quickly picks it up and covers for him.

”Yeah, yeah we did. Kind of. Something came up,” Tommy explains, words leaving him a little quickly. “Did- Did Wilbur tell you about the whole ghost thing?” He asks, head tilted slightly to the side, and Phil’s brows furrowed as he tries piecing together what’s happening.

”Yes...?” 

“Well, I wasn’t lying, Phil, and uh- I’d like you to meet Tubbo.” He says, and he steps a little more into the room. He turns his head to make sure the boy’s followed him, and he finds himself a little relieved that he has. The boy’s gaze shifts from Tommy to Phil, then settles on the man with an awkward sort of smile. Just as Tommy thinks that, yeah, okay, this is going pretty well all things considered, he hears a loud clang and immediately turns his attention back to Phil.

The man looks pale, and he’s just dropped the ladle he’s been holding on to the floor. He’s staring right at Tubbo, shoulders raised and eyes wide. He says nothing, and the two of them just stare at each other for a moment before Wilbur clears his throat.

”So, I’m assuming you can see him too, then?”

”Tommy, Wilbur, what the _fuck.”_

_“Yeah,”_ Tommy says, his voice higher pitched as he stretches out the word. The good news is Phil doesn’t really look mad, he just looks completely and utterly shocked, which is understandable, really. He sees Techno poke his head into the kitchen, eyes quickly taking in the scene before him. They settle on Tubbo, who, now that Tommy looks at him, looks absolutely terrified by Phil’s response. “I mean, it’s not _that_ big of a deal, right?”

 _”Tommy.”_ Phil says, and okay, he’s still not mad, but maybe that wasn’t the right thing to say.

”Look- look, alright? Okay, it might be a big deal, but what do you want _me_ to do about it?” Tommy retorts, a bit defensive. He squeezes Tubbo’s hand in his own, only for his fingers to pass through and clench into a fist at his side. “He’s my friend, and he’s nice. Can we please just act normal about it?”

”How did you die?” Tommy turns his head and glares at Techno for the question. That has to be the least ‘act normal’ response he’s ever heard. Once Techno notices Tommy’s look, he straightens his back and holds out his hands defensively. “Hey, look, it was gonna come up eventually. It’s a perfectly reasonable thing to ask.”

Tommy’s eyes stay narrowed at him even as he explains himself. He only averts his gaze when Tubbo speaks, redirecting his attention towards his friend. “It’s fine. I can’t remember, really.” He says, tone more conversational than anxious. He catches Tommy’s eye and offers him a lopsided smile, awkward but reassuring, and it sets him at ease a little more. He’d been so worried about Tubbo feeling uncomfortable around them, and while he sort of does, he doesn’t look too offended by anything either. 

The tension lingers in the air as they slowly begin setting up for dinner. The food is definitely colder than it would have been if not for the whole ordeal, but considering nobody at the table seems to feel like eating, Tommy supposes it isn’t too much of a loss. He can see Phil fidgeting with his fork, pushing the food around on his plate and occasionally glancing up to look at the boy. Which would be fine- the whole situation is strange -if not for the fact that it happens so frequently, and the silence around them is becoming unbearable.

”Alright, let’s just clear things up. Any questions you have, just say them, so that we can fucking eat and get on with it.” Tommy says, and it catches everyone else slightly off guard. He looks between each of them, expectant. Phil’s eyebrows are raised, and Wilbur is giving him a sort of _‘What The Fuck Are You Doing’_ kind of look. He doesn’t back down, though, brows furrowing in persistence and annoyance as he holds Wil’s gaze. Techno is the one to eventually bite the bullet.

”Where did you even get a ghost?” He asks, and Tommy lets out an audible sigh of relief now that the tension’s been broken. Maybe not entirely broken, sure, but it’s slowly being chipped away at. It’s a start.

”Well, Tubbo’s attached to the bee- the one I found at the tree house. After I fixed it, he kind of just appeared.” Tommy explains. “He’s sort of- He’s attached to it, sort of. He can’t go too far from it, otherwise he just gets pulled along.” He recalls something and grins, chuckling to himself for a moment before adding, “It’s real convenient to just throw it when he’s being annoying.”

For his behavior, he’s given a light punch to his shoulder that feels more like a stiff breeze than anything. He laughs at it, and he only laughs louder when he sees the annoyed look on Tubbo’s face. “What? I’m right, it’s really funny. You just go fucking flying,” He wheezes, and Tubbo rolls his eyes so hard it almost looks painful. “Besides, you have fun with it, don’t you?” He adds, primarily because he’s sure it’ll get a reaction from the boy, and he’s right, too; his expression quickly shifts from mild annoyance to flat out shock and flustered indignation.

”It is _not_ fun! I just get tossed around!” He huffs, voice raising in volume. It’s the loudest he’s been all day, and that fact alone has Tommy laughing again. And, however much the boy might be trying to hide it, he’s sure he can see a smile forming on the boy’s face. He must realize he’s been caught, because his façade slips away and a smile stretches across his face. “You’re a real prick. I can’t believe I’m stuck haunting you.”

”I mean, I could always donate the stuffed animal to a thrift shop.” Tommy muses, and Tubbo’s eyebrows raise.

”You wouldn’t.” He says, and his voice is much darker now. It would almost be threatening if not for the fact the boy didn’t have much power beyond that of a stiff breeze. Tommy forces his expression to even as he holds eye contact with the boy for one, two seconds, and then lets it break into a rather fond smile- the kind that quirks to the side a little bit.

”You’re right, I wouldn’t.” 

“So, you found the stuffed animal at the tree house?” The question comes from Phil, and it swiftly reminds Tommy that there’s other people at the table- older brothers who would happily tease him over his new friend, and a father figure who would be so embarrassingly pleased at the formed friendship. Tommy flushes for a second as he shifts his gaze to Phil, seeing a curious and encouraging smile plastered across his lips. It’s the kind he’d probably wear to compliment him on making a friend as if that was something difficult to do and was something he should be proud of (It was difficult, and he wanted to be proud of it, but god was it a pathetic thing to be proud of).

”Yeah, the tree house is his, actually. Found his name carved into one of the walls when I was cleaning them.” He answers, and he’s starting to become aware of the attention placed upon him. It’s not too much of a bother, but it does have him subconsciously picking up his fork so that way he can fidget with it, twirling it in his hand. “He didn’t know his name before that.”

”What kind of a name is Tubbo?” Techno says sarcastically, and thankfully, the boy answers instead this time. 

“I have no clue, but I recognized it, so I’m going to guess it’s my name.” He answers, and then, with a slight huff, adds, “Besides, what kind of a name is Techno?”

His brother’s eyebrows raise for a second, and then he shrugs, head tilting to the side as he does so. “Touché, I guess.” He resigns, and Tommy feels a bit relieved to see an ever so slight quirk to his lips. Techno isn’t exactly the most expressive person, with a monotonous voice to match, but once you became accustomed to his tone, it was easy to pick apart different emotions. And, the more comfortable he got, the more emotion he would show. 

As more questions come, the duo explain that Tubbo doesn’t remember any of his previous life, except for the little bits and pieces he’s managed to scrap together. He remembers soft grass, bees and flowers, the tree house, and how he might have been learning how to play guitar or piano. Tension bleeds out between them, and eventually, the table becomes a bit more lively than it had been. Tommy has to get up at some point to nuke his food in the microwave, since it had gotten cold during their discussion. In the minute or so that it takes his food to heat, he watches them all discuss things at the table- apparently, Techno has picked up a new rival, and Tommy prays for the poor soul in question. 

But the important thing is, Tubbo is smiling amongst his family members, commenting here and there on the conversation. It’s something even the obnoxious microwave ding can’t ruin, nor can the unevenly cooked dinner. He sits back down beside his friend, and as the conversation continues, the five of them bounce off each other with stories and jokes. Food slowly gets finished off each of the plates, and given that it’s Techno’s dinner night, Tommy wishes each of his family members good night before heading up the stairs and to his room with Tubbo in tow.

”I think that went well. I think it went really, really well.” Tubbo says, the second they make it into Tommy’s room. Tommy turns his head and nods, a lopsided and relaxed grin on his face. It’s a relief that he still can’t get over, and considering the hours of apprehension that had built up inside him, he’s okay to accept the feeling for a little while longer. 

“Yeah, it did,” Tommy says, voice soft as he lays down on his bed, facing his ceiling. He takes a moment to just breathe, to feel it as a cool rush in the back of his throat. And then, once he’s done, he turns his head slightly to the side, where he can see the old L’manburgh flag hung up on his wall. He stares at it for a moment, firstly for sentimental value, then as a spot for him to let his mind wander. Something nags at him in his mind, and it causes something heavy to sink in his chest. He doesn’t comment on it though, not yet, not even as he feels the chilly presence of his friend settle beside him. It’s only once he’s thoroughly thought it through does he turn his head to the other side, coming face to face with the brunet. “How long do you think it would take you to learn to become invisible?” He asks, voice a soft murmur as he speaks.

Tubbo’s expression slowly switches from fond concern to mild confusion, and he asks “Why would I need to?” in return. Tommy sighs softly, and turns his gaze up to his ceiling, his arms folded on his chest. 

“Well, if people can see you now, that might not- it might not go well.” He answers. The idea of someone Tubbo knew when he was alive seeing him was horrifying enough, and Tommy didn’t want to have to deal with that thought becoming a reality. And, even the idea of Tubbo running into someone he didn’t know seemed like a bad idea. Exorcists were a thing, weren’t they? People made corny ghost hunting videos online all the time. Tommy should know, considering Wilbur had a brief obsession with it maybe a year or two back. “And, if you can’t turn invisible, I don’t think we can go to New L’manburgh anymore.”

Tommy glances out of the corner of his eyes, and he’s not surprised to see a deep frown pulling at the corners of his friends lips. It’s even worse when he lets out a small, “Oh.”, voice dejected and maybe a little broken. Tommy nods; it’s a mutual feeling shared between them. The silence hangs between them, before Tubbo eventually says, “I’ll try learning.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> long one today folks. when i said this thing might reach heatwaves levels of length i wasn't fucking kidding.

The remainder of the weekend practically crawls by. Since Tubbo can’t go outside anymore without risk of being seen, the two decide to spend the weekend playing video games and watching shows together. Phil and Techno occasionally pass by, giving the two glances, but for the most part, it seems they’re getting accustomed to things well enough. At some point, Wilbur joins them in watching Hamilton. It’s the only one of Wil’s musicals that Tommy will actually sit and enjoy watching, even going so far as to murmur the lyrics to himself, softly enough that he hopes Wil doesn’t hear. 

It’s nice, spending time with his older brother again. He’d never admit it, but Tommy was really starting to miss the days when he and Wil would play games and talk at old L’manburgh. It had been a while, and he had been left to hang out there on his own. It was nice to sit back and hang out with him again, without being at each other’s throats. And, if somehow they ended the musical curled against each other, huddled underneath a blanket, well, that was their own personal business. Anyone who had a problem with it could fuck off. 

The new chair at the dining room table becomes a more regular addition, with Tubbo joining them each night for dinner. The boy can’t eat, sure, but he can enjoy the conversation. The first time Tommy extends a hand to him and tells him that they'd better head downstairs, the boy smiles so wide it looks like it hurts. He almost grins even wider when they come down and see that his chair is just where it had been the previous night, and Tommy almost laughs at just how eager he is to sit in his spot at their table. They talk about the musical they watched together, and Tubbo excitedly chimes in with his favorite bits. It's wonderful.

Sunday evening comes eventually, and as Tommy's preparing for bed, he hears a knock at his door. "One second!" He shouts, getting up from the homework he'd been doing and approaching the door. When he opens it, he sees Wil standing outside. "Oh, hey Wilbur. Whats up?" He doesn't quite meet Tommy's eyes, and instead tries arching his neck so that way he can see into Tommy's room. He stops after a second though, and looks down to Tommy.

"Hey, is Tubbo in here?" He asks, and Tommy nods, side stepping so that he can see better. Tubbo is sat next to Tommy's things, watching the conversation from his spot on the bed. He gives a little wave, and then, Wilbur addresses him specifically. "Hey Tubbo, could you give Tommy and I moment alone, please?" He asks. Tommy arches a brow at this, feeling a slight pang of anxiety at Wil's request. Tubbo looks just as confused.

"Sure." He answers, getting up from the bed. He gives Tommy a strange look as he passes by. Wil gives him an appreciative smile.

"Thank you. Phil's downstairs watching television. I'm sure he wouldn't mind the company for a little while," He adds, and Tubbo nods. Tommy watches him go, until eventually, he gets out of view entirely. "May I step in?" Wil asks, and Tommy looks up, that anxious feeling growing inside of him. The air around him feels cold as he steps aside. Wil gives him a smile, then approaches his bed, sitting down and patting an open spot next to him. Tommy walks closer, shutting the door behind him and sitting next to his brother. 

There’s an awkward silence between them. The chirping of crickets fills the air, somewhere between providing a pleasant white noise or making it almost unbearable. He hasn’t decided yet. “So, uh, what is it?” Tommy asks after a solid second, turning his head slightly so he can look at his brother. He’s not looking at him, but at Tommy’s question, he turns his head back to face him. The smile on his face is warm and fond, but given the circumstances, it’s not all that reassuring. If anything, it makes his stomach twist worse.

”Have you missed hanging out with me?” He asks, all soft and kind, yet it still feels like a stab to the chest. It must show on his face, because he adds, “I’m sorry for being a dick.”

That somehow hurts more than the other things. Tommy shakes his head, throat dry. He finds himself subconsciously wiping his hands off on his pajama pants, getting rid of the cold sweat that washes over them. “No, Wil, it’s alright.” He assures. His words come out as a mumble, and when he lifts his gaze up and sees the concerned sort of pout on his brother’s face, he sighs and averts his eyes again. His brows furrow, that tension coiling inside of him. “You don’t have to apologize. I know moving’s been harder on you than it has been for me or Techno. It’s fine.”

”Just because something’s hard for me doesn’t mean I should take that out on either of you.” Wilbur says, and his voice carries the same dissatisfaction that Tommy’s does. The whole conversation is frustrating for both of them, but there’s no backing down now. All they have to do is keep pressing, keep pushing until the dam bursts and the tension unwinds and they can finally be normal again. “Moving’s been difficult, but I don’t have to make that everyone else’s problem.”

Tommy sucks in a breath, letting it course through him. He’s not so much frustrated that the conversation is happening, but rather, where it’s ended up. And though part of him wants it to be over already, so that way he can go back to listening to Wil’s songs on his old cassette player, the other part of him says in a voice choked and tense, “It wasn’t just during the move, you know.”

He almost prays that Wil doesn’t hear him, so that he can be left alone to calm himself down. He isn’t given that blessing. “What?” He says, his voice confused and soft and so painful to bear. Tommy nods stiffly, refusing to meet his gaze. 

“Yeah, um...” He admits, and he chokes on the words, having to stop himself so that he can clear his throat. It feels so raspy and tight, but he continues anyway, pushing. “You- You sort of stopped hanging out with me after a bit. You stopped going to L’manburgh with me.” There's a pause, and Tommy feels an oncoming headache that makes him want to end the conversation sooner rather than later. "You started hanging out more with Schlatt."

"I thought you liked him?" He asks, and he sounds so confused. Pain and frustration mix horribly in Tommy's chest. He wants yell, wants to explain what he's feeling to Wil like a normal person would, but each time he opens his mouth his throat closes up around the words until it feels like he can hardly breathe, much less speak. The air around them is thick and suffocating and cruel, and he's trying oh so desperately to distance himself from the emotions before they fully consume him. 

"I do," He says, and the words come out as a pitiful, raspy little squeak that he's embarrassed of. "I-I do, and I tried hanging out with both of you, b-but you- you didn't really want me to."

Wil wanted to hang out with kids his age, not annoying, loud little brothers with squeal like laughs and unfunny jokes. He wanted to hang out with friend's he'd made and not brothers his dad had adopted. And though it hurt, the worst part was that Tommy understood. He knew exactly why Wil would want those things, he knew that it was entirely reasonable. And, even as he sits here now, in his new room with Wil right at his side, he just knows that Wil would rather be off with someone else. Because, who would want to hang out with some sad, annoying little kid who was- _he was-_

He lets out a choked and ragged sob as Wil puts his arm around him. Because he was crying. He was crying like a stupid little child, _and Wilbur must think he's something pitiful, and it hurts._ "I'm sorry, Toms." He says, all soft and quiet like he's consoling a toddler, and Tommy doesn't know whether he wants to curl up against the warmth and hold him close or recoil from the touch like it's fire. He compromises by curling up on himself, letting himself be pulled against Wil's side like he's some sort of rag doll. He cries, weak and pathetic and suffocating on anything and everything. It's horrible, and he feel's bad for feeling so much safer when Wil's hand starts tracing circles in his back.

"I missed you," He finally admits after a little bit, voice absolutely wrecked. It's shaky and breathless and uneven, and it hurts his own ears just to listen to. "I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for." Wil murmurs, and Tommy nearly chokes on the next breath he takes. Because he does have things to be sorry for- Wil deserves his own friends, his own space, and here Tommy is, being a bitch and invading on his brother's space. Still, as Wilbur keeps speaking, Tommy finds it pleasant, letting himself believe the things he's told. They sit like that for a while, with Wil murmuring constant reassurances that Tommy isn’t a bother, that he’s wanted and cared for, and though his mind screams that his brother is lying to him, pitying him like some kicked dog, he leans into the touch and slowly relaxes in his arms.

Its one of the most embarrassing things to happen to Tommy in a while, but he won’t deny how much better he feels when he finally uncurls from his little ball, hugging Wil tightly like it’s the last chance he’ll get. After all, Wil heads off to university in a year, and he won’t be able to see him as much after that. 

They sit there until the aftermath of his crying is gone- until the redness in his face and eyes disappears, until he can speak at least decently well without stuttering or choking on the words. When he’s presentable, Wil ruffles his hair and wishes him goodnight. Tommy’s exhausted when Wil leaves the room, and briefly sets his homework aside and curls up in bed. He drifts asleep, hugging the stuffed animals close to him, listening to the crickets chirp and the sound of Wilbur’s songs.

He never hit play on the cassette.

They don’t mention it the next morning when they wake up. Tommy walks down the stairs, dressed and ready to pretend like nothing happened the night before. He spots both Phil and Tubbo on the couch, and greets them both with a good morning. They both smile at him, each looking a little tired, and a realization strikes him that has him looking at Tubbo with a brow quirked. “Did you come upstairs last night?” He asks, and he feels a little bad when the boy shakes his head.

”No, but it’s fine. Phil and I watched TV down here.” He explains, giving him a smile. Tommy turns his head to Phil to give him the same apologetic expression, but instead, he’s met with that same tired grin. 

“We fell asleep on the couch.” He says, and Tommy’s mouth forms an ‘o’ at the explanation. It would certainly explain why Phil doesn’t look the most well rested, and why he hasn’t changed into his pajamas yet either. The man is sat on the couch wearing the same jeans and t-shirt he wore the night before, with an episode of Jeopardy playing on the television. “It got pretty late, and he’s kind of a ghost, so it’s not like I could move him. I figured I’d stay here.”

"Oh, alright," Tommy says, nodding. He heads towards the kitchen, then, and grabs himself some breakfast. He comes back with a bowl of cereal, sitting on the couch next to Phil. The three of them watch the show, occasionally answering the questions when they think they know it. After the first few times Tubbo gets a question correct, Tommy cracks a grin and looks at the boy with an absolutely bewildered expression. "How do you even know these things?! You couldn't even remember your name."

The brunet laughs at that, which doesn't really answer his question, but it's fine. They keep watching the show, not really keeping score, but having fun either way. When the episode ends, Tommy gets up and puts his cereal bowl in the sink. Techno's rifling through the pantry, grabbing a granola bar for himself. His cup of coffee sits next to the pot, already half empty. They have only a few minutes before they should start walking to school, and Wil's still not down yet. With that in mind, Tommy heads back over to the stairs, with Phil yelling at him half way up to grab his jacket.

He knocks on Wilbur's door as he walks past, shouting at him to get ready to leave, and then heads into his room to grab his jacket. He makes sure he hasn't left any homework, and then, after a second of hesitation, grabs his cassette player along with a few different tapes. He could use his phone, sure, but the cassette is much less likely to be confiscated in class. He leaves once he's all ready, just in time to see Wil exit his own room. He isn't wearing the dark hoodie he's stuck with for the past few days- instead, he's wearing his yellow cardigan sweater and a similar brown coat to Tommy's. His hair looks done up as well, not as messy as it typically is. 

He gives Tommy a sheepish sort of smile when their eyes meet. A bubbly, warm feeling swells inside him, and it has him grinning ear to ear. There's nothing said, no words exchanged between them, but they're both smiling as they go down the stairs. "Techno, c'mon, it's time to go!" He shouts as he reaches the base of the stairs, hearing a bland sort of noise come from his older brother. Phil looks up from his spot on the couch, and the second he sees Wil, he practically melts.

Techno comes out after a short second, coffee cup in hand and backpack slumped over one of his shoulders. "Bye boys, have a good day at school," Phil says, earning a short series of _'you too's_. The trio then make their way to the building in relative silence. It's peaceful, though Tommy's a little sad to see the colorful leaves have started to brown and fall off, crunching underfoot. It's gotten significantly colder too, at least in the mornings. Tommy finds himself zipping up his coat to keep warm. The sky is dark with the early morning, though as the sun rises on the horizon, it begins to turn pink and orange. 

The three stick together outside the building, forming a small group so that way others won't get too close to them. Both he and Techno have a bit of a problem when it comes to contact with strangers, the whole ordeal just being awkward and unpleasant. And though Wilbur does not have the same problem, he is also incredibly tall, and it would probably be good for him to not accidentally trample a shorter student. So they stand there, a little bit away from the student body, and Tommy takes this time to listen to one of his tapes while finishing up the remainder of his homework. He doesn't listen to Wil's songs, not when he's a mere three feet from him. Instead, he swaps it for a different mix.

The music drones out the conversations of everyone around him, and though Tommy's hand freezes a bit in the cold weather, he manages to finish his homework up before the bell rings. When it does, students begin to walk in, and both Tommy and Techno stand and wait for most people to filter in. They say good bye to Wil as he goes, then, after a few moments go in. The warm air of the building is a relief, and Tommy near instantly unzips his coat. He says his goodbyes to his brother, then heads off towards his first period to begin his day. 

Things go smoothly that day. His third period teacher might be starting to get fed up with him asking to work out in the halls everyday, but she's a bitch and he doesn't really care that much. Besides, if he brings his cassettes with him, it means he gets to listen to his music while he works, and that helps him out quite a bit with the work. As much as that teacher might hate him, he's making pretty decent grades, especially for not even being taught half the material in the unit. Though, when Tommy sits mostly by himself in the cafeteria, he can't help but feel a small pang of loneliness. Once Tubbo manages to turn invisible, maybe it wouldn't be half bad to bring him to school. 

He considers joining Techno in the library, then, and shakes away the idea. He only has so long for lunch, and his class is on the complete otherside of the school. The only reason Techno's even in the library is because he usually skips out on lunch because of his ADHD medication. If Tommy were to eat lunch, go up and meet his brother, and then leave so that way he could return to class on time, he'd probably only be there for a total of two minutes, which really didn't seem worth it. So, he resigned himself to being the quiet kid sat alone at the lunch table, listening to his music and waiting for the day to pass. 

When the final bell rings, Tommy's more grateful that the day is over than he is truly excited to go home. He waits this time to walk with Techno and Wilbur, awkwardly side stepping every time someone bumps into his arm or shoulder. It's not like he and Tubbo are going to be able to hang out at New L'manburgh anyways, so he'll probably just be stuck inside with him for now. When they return home, Tommy hears his name excitedly called from the living room. He quirks a brow, curious, and as he makes his way closer, he sees Tubbo sitting on the couch, a massive grin on his face. "Yeah mate? What's up?" He asks, and Tubbo doesn't say anything. Instead, he turns, and picks up the television remote from the couch. 

"I can pick things up now!" He exclaims, clearly excited about it, and Tommy's eyebrows raise. The boy immediately starts rambling, so Tommy takes that time to sit down on the couch next to him, unpacking his homework so that he can do it while sitting next to him. "Phil told me to try picking some things up as long as they wouldn't break, so I've been working on lifting the remote. I can't catch it quite yet-" Tommy's confused on what he means by that for only the second, watching as the boy tosses the remote up a little bit before it falls straight through his hand. "But soon enough, I think I'll have enough force to actually do things a little better!"

"That's real impressive, Tubbo." Tommy says, and the smile he gets from the boy is well worth it. Tommy works on his homework in the living room with Tubbo at his side, the boy tossing and attempting to catch the remote at his side. It's not much, but when Tommy glances to the side after a little while, he swears the remote falls just a little slower when it comes into contact with where his hand would be. 

The next three days go fairly similarly, though each time Tommy comes home, Tubbo has something new to show him. Whether it's a new song he's learned on Wil's guitar (he can't lift the guitar just yet, but Wilbur's been kind enough to leave it propped up on his bed for him), or a new thing he's able to lift or catch, it's really sweet seeing the proud smile on his face as he gets better and better. Phil's definitely gotten used to Tubbo, considering the way he scoffs at his jokes every now and then and tries to ruffle the kid's hair. It's funny the first time Tommy catches him doing it, Tubbo laughing along with him as his hand phases straight through his head. 

It's only on Friday, as Tommy's working out in the hall, that things start to go wrong. Tommy's doing his work quietly, listening to some of Wil's songs on the cassette tape, headphones plugged in. The music is loud enough that he doesn't notice the teacher has stepped outside until she's standing a few feet in front of him. He looks up to meet her gaze and sees her hand extended towards him. Confused, he takes out one of the headphones and asks, "Um, is there something wrong, Miss?"

She gives him a condescending little huff that has him really beginning to question how she became a teacher in the first place. "Tom, you've been incredibly disruptive to the working environment in my classroom." She says, pulling her hand back and letting it rest at her side. Tommy gives her a confused look, feeling his chest tighten as he meets her gaze. 

"Miss, not to be rude or anything, but how am I disrupting your class when I'm not even working in there?" He asks, trying to keep his voice as polite as possible. She must take it for sarcasm though, because her brows furrow and her eyes narrow at Tommy in a way that has him straightening his back against the wall behind him. Okay, new approach, then. "I only work out in the hall because the kids around me are disruptive and I can't work."

"How are they being disruptive?" She asks, and okay, he's starting to get annoyed with her. Because she must know by now that those kids are annoying and disruptive, right? He'd explained it to her the first time he got in trouble, and it hadn't stopped since. They'd switched to doing it during instructional time as opposed to when they were supposed to be working on their own. Hell, the teacher had told them to knock it off quite a few times during the actual lesson. Surely she wasn't so stupid that she didn't recognize their behavior. 

"You're- You're serious?" He asks, in a state of complete disbelief. She holds his gaze though, staring down at him with even disapproval. "They've been blowing on me and whispering and shit, Miss, and they keep kicking my desk during lessons. It's too distracting." He explains, just in case she really is just that oblivious, and once he's done he meets her gaze again and finds it just as annoyed, if not more. 

"I think you're being too sensitive about all this," She says, and Tommy gapes at that, because truly, truly she can't be serious. He doesn't have any time to call her on it though, as she keeps going before he can even get the chance. "They haven't been disruptive until you arrived, and you are my only student to go and work out in the hallway. Either you're doing something to annoy them, or you're being too sensitive about everything."

Fighting a teacher would definitely get him expelled, wouldn't it?

"Aren't you supposed to create a healthy learning environment?" He settles for, and he keeps talking so that way she won't interrupt him or send him to the office too early. He's really trying here, it isn't his fault she's being a massive bitch about everything. "Those kids are being disruptive, and I'm just trying to do my work without being bothered. And clearly you aren't going to stop them, so this is really the only option I have left. Unless you would rather I work in the library, which is fine."

That's definitely the wrong thing to say, because when he looks back up at her, she's absolutely fuming. "Tom, I will not be told how I should run my classroom by a student who doesn't even spend most of his time in it." She says, and her eyes shift just slightly in a way that has Tommy's chest feeling cold. "And, you aren't allowed to be listening to music during class, so I will be confiscating these." Before he can really stop her, she bends down and picks up his cassette player and the bag of tapes that's sat next to him. When she stands, player in hand, it pulls the other earbud out from his ear harshly, causing him to wince at the slight pain. "If you can stay in my class without being disruptive for a full week, then you'll get them back. But for now, they will be in my drawer for the rest of the semester. Do you understand?"

Tommy's completely and utterly shocked by her actions, his hand coming up to rub at his ear where she'd forcefully pulled the bud from. "But Miss, that isn't fair- those are mine, and I didn't know that rule-" He protests, that tight feeling in his chest increasing. He loves those tapes- he's spent so long making them and personalizing them. It's the one thing he's had with him for as long as Henry- the one possession he actually cared about taking with him whenever he switched foster homes. She doesn't care about any of that, though. She wouldn't.

"Well, now you know the rule, and if you protest any more, you'll have detention and won't get them back for a month. Understood?" She says, and Tommy glares up at her. He bites back the number of curses he wants to shout at her, his hand flipping her off from where it rests in his coat pocket. They stay like that for a moment, until Tommy sighs, eyes diverting to the floor.

"Fine, alright."

That class period is the worst one he's had so far. He's brought back into the class room, and those same kids simply keep up their antics. Except now, Tommy can do nothing but squirm and narrow his eyes and bite his tongue. The teacher keeps a close eye on him, making sure he isn't saying anything to be disruptive, and by the time Tommy leaves he has a near unbearable headache. He's not even sure if today counts towards the full week, but if he can get his cassette tapes back by next Friday, things should be fine. 

That evening, he doesn't tell Phil or anyone else what occurred. Phil's the one who suggested he sit out in the hallway, and Tommy's sure that if he were to request the aid of an administrator- he's not even sure which one he would go to -they wouldn't believe him. The teacher was in her full authority to do whatever she deemed reasonable, and if that meant confiscating Tommy's tapes as a disciplinary action, then so be it. Still, Tommy won't deny the almost crushing sadness he feels that night as he tries going to sleep, no music to lull him. He curls up on himself and tries to ignore it, almost breaking when he feels phantom hands wrap around him faintly in a hug.

Time passes so slowly, and Tommy is exhausted at the beginning of each day. He's more irritable too, which he tries not to show to the rest of his family. Instead, he asks Techno to brew him some coffee in the mornings, and he tries taking naps in the afternoon. It throws off his work ethic entirely, and it doesn't quite help the tiredness that wracks through him. He blames it on the darker mornings whenever one of his brothers expresses their concern, but as the days go by, tension winds up tight within him. He makes it till the next Wednesday without incident, and he's eager and excited to get his tapes back within two days, just two more days-

The kid behind him kicks his desk so hard it lurches forward, and he promptly tells them to fuck off. And just like that, the tapes are gone for another week. 

When the teacher tells him this before he leaves her class, his heart almost breaks. He tries explaining what the kid had done, but she hears none of it. He ends up being late to his next class, and is locked out. When he finally gets home that day, he practically launches himself into his bed to scream into his pillow.

“Tommy...?” 

His groan is poorly muffled by the sheets. He sits up, hair a mess and brows furrowed as he looks towards the boy in his room. He looks concerned, but right now, Tommy’s too frustrated to really care. “What? What is it, Tubbo?” He asks, and okay, his voice comes out a bit harsher than he would have liked. He’s had a rough day, alright? And he’s about to have another rough week, and maybe a rough semester. 

“Are you alright?” 

“No. No I am not _alright.”_ He retorts. He does that thing that Wilbur does sometimes, and runs his hand through his hair, tugging as if more pain will somehow help. It doesn’t, and he almost growls, wondering why the fuck Wil would even do that if it didn’t help. He’s so tired and frustrated, and looking at Tubbo isn’t really helping, especially when the boy is looking at him with such kindness that really doesn’t feel deserved right now. He flops backwards onto his bed, arms splayed out as he looks up at his ceiling.

There’s a slight chill as the boy comes and sits next to him on the bed. “Would you like to talk about it?” He asks, and Tommy almost tells him to fuck off, but then he catches his expression and chokes on the words. He looks really concerned, and it’s kind of a lot- it’s a little overwhelming just how much care is there. So, he swallows, nodding a confirmation. Tubbo does the same, situating himself so that he’s a bit more comfortable. Tommy sighs, bringing his hands up to wipe at his face.

”There’s one class period, right, where I’m surrounded by these super super annoying kids. And on my first day I swore at them and got a call home,” He explains, voice just a little bit mumbly as he talks. It seems the boy’s following along just fine, though, so he continues. “The teacher’s a real bitch, but I didn’t want to get in trouble, so I asked her if I could sit out in the hall. Which was fine, until last Friday when she stepped outside and told me I was being too sensitive about it. Which was annoying, yeah, but she took my tapes. And now they’re gone for the rest of the semester.”

”Oh.” The noise is sympathetic and understanding, and there’s a moment of silence between them. Then- “Did she- did she take all the tapes?”

”Yeah. She did.” Tommy confirms, and Tubbo gives a soft hum at the answer. He groans again, the noise transitioning into a higher pitched whine near the end. “I’m not even doing anything, and she’s saying I’m the problem. I spent so long putting together those tapes- I’ve had them for so long, and now they’re gone because some other kids decided to be dickheads.”

”I’m sorry,” Is Tubbo’s first response, along with a slightly colder hand on his shoulder. It helps more than Tommy ever would have expected, the tension beginning to bleed out after having admitted to his issues. “Maybe we could steal them back?”

The suggestion catches him wildly off guard. “I-I’m sorry?”

”Yeah, okay, hear me out,” Tommy does, keeping his eyes on the boy as gesticulates. It’s funny, really- Tommy never would have taken Tubbo to be the type to recommend stealing. “She’s going to forget she took them at the end of the semester. And she might forget next week too. So, why don’t you just take her key and go into her class when it’s empty? Then you can get the tapes back and nobody will know.”

Tommy thinks on it for a minute. It isn’t a half bad idea. “Do you think you could learn to turn invisible soon?” He asks, and Tubbo cocks his head slightly to the side.

”Maybe, yeah. Why?”

”Because if you can turn invisible, then we don’t even need the key. You can just phase through the door and unlock it.” Tommy answers, and Tubbo thinks on it and grins. 

“Alright, I’ll try my best.” He assures. Tommy grins up at him, and god, if he could he absolutely would pull him into a hug. The rest of the day goes by a little easier, paired with a few strange and questionable Google searches. None of the advice on wikihow helps; most of it is for _living_ people, not ghosts, and that makes things a little complicated. It’s all metaphorical instead of literal, so they switch websites and start looking into paranormal websites. There aren’t too many results, but a few provide explanation for why ghosts can sometimes turn invisible, and that’s about as good as they’re going to get it. 

The next few days are bad, but not as bad as the first week. The second week comes without much result on Tubbo’s invisibility, and Tommy accidentally swears at the kid next to him when he stomps on his backpack. The tapes are gone for yet another week, and the teacher doesn’t even have to tell him this time. He doesn’t bother asking, either. Instead, he asks about tutoring days, since his grades have been slipping ever since he’s been forced to work in the classroom. It’s partly so that he can get his grade in the class back up, but more so that he can figure out when her room will be empty. 

Tommy comes home the next Tuesday to Tubbo standing in front of him excitedly. He looks slightly more transparent than usual, but he’s still visible, and grinning like a madman. He’s practically bouncing where he stands. “Tommy, look, look!” He says all excited like, and he can’t help but grin at the boy’s eagerness.

”That’s great, Tubbo, but I can still see you.” He says. The boy tilts his head at him, and then asks him to follow along. They head their way into the living room where Phil’s sat, and Tubbo looks between the man and Tommy. 

“Ask him if he can see me.”

Tommy gives him a questioning look, but considering there’s no change in expression, he gives in. “Hey, Phil,” He starts, and he feels a little ridiculous as the man looks up. He meets his eyes, and Tommy continues. “Can you see Tubbo right now?” He asks, and Phil’s brow quirks at him, confused.

”No...? Is he in your room or something?”

Tommy’s eyes widen, and when he looks to where Tubbo’s standing, he sees the boy grinning at him almost wickedly. “Holy shit.” Tommy says, and he ignores the confused look Phil’s giving him in favor of watching Tubbo practically vibrate in front of him. “Holy shit, you did it! This is incredible!”

As Tubbo smiles at him, grin pushing his cheeks up near his eyes, he becomes less transparent. “Oh Jesus,” Phil murmurs from where he’s sat, watching the two boys in front of him laugh and cheer at the trick’s success. It’s strange and wonderful, and at dinner that night, the brunet shows off his new trick for everyone at the table. It means so much for them- it means they can go to New L’manburgh again. It means Tubbo can go out without having to worry about people seeing him. And, most importantly, it makes getting Tommy’s tapes back much easier. 

The next Wednesday, the teacher informs Tommy that she won't be having tutoring after school the next day because of a faculty meeting. Tommy tries to keep an even expression as he leaves, telling her that it's all right, but the second he leaves the room he's grinning ear to ear. All he has to do now is sneak the stuffed bee into his backpack and hope nothing goes wrong from there. The last thing he'd want is for it to be confiscated and for Tubbo to be stuck at school for as long as his tapes are gone. Tommy informs Tubbo of the day, then, that night, he tells the rest of his family that he's gonna try to bring Tubbo to school with him.

At first they oppose the idea, having some of the same concerns that Tommy had. But as he explains that he'll keep the bee in his backpack, and Tubbo can turn invisible and stay with him all day, they slowly agree to it. Besides, it would be good for Tubbo to get out of the house instead of waiting for Tommy to come home every day. If this day goes well, then why not keep doing it? It's a test run.

So, Thursday morning Tommy stuffs the stuffed bee into his backpack, ditching one of his binders so that way he has more space. He's already being picked on in his third period, the last thing he needs is for them to see he's brought a stuffed animal with him. That morning, Tubbo is practically bouncing all over the place, much more excited than Tommy can keep up with. He sits down next to Techno to have his coffee, watching the boy pace back and forth in the kitchen. "You do realize it's school. It's not that exciting." Techno quips, though he looks rather amused by the whole ordeal. 

"Yeah, but I haven't been in so long!" He chimes, completely unfazed by the remark. Techno hums and gives him a shrug. "Do you think I'll recognize anyone? Or maybe I'll remember more!"

"Maybe, maybe." Tommy says, his own excitement incredibly muted by the exhaustion that courses through him. Last night he finally managed to get a decent sleep, as Wilbur was working on a new song. Tommy could barely make out the words through the wall, but the singing and the guitar strums acted as a sedative. Which would have been great, if not for the fact his sleep schedule recently had been absolute shit, and now he was more tired than ever. Hopefully after today he would finally be able to have a good rest. 

When it's time to go, the four of them say bye to Phil at the door. He gives Tubbo an especially fond expression, and reminds him to turn invisible before they leave. He does so excitedly, and Tommy watches as the boy scrunches his eyes shut and puffs out his cheeks, becoming slightly more transparent than he was before. They still don't know why Tommy's the only one who can see Tubbo when he's invisible, but they've come to the conclusion that it's because Tommy has a special attachment to the boy. He was the one who woke him up and fixed the stuffed animal after all, and for a good while, he was the only one who could see Tubbo at all. By some strange logic, it makes sense. 

Tubbo chats with him excitedly the whole way, and it takes a great deal of effort to separate that conversation from the one he has with his brothers. Though, Tubbo swiftly cuts himself off the second the school building comes into view, a bright smile on his face as he rushes forward. He's cut short, as if some invisible force had yanked him back by the collar. Tommy smiles at him, almost laughs at the pout on his face. Even though he's been able to go much farther, he's still tethered to the stuffed animal, and has to wait for Tommy to catch up with him before he can keep going. 

"Do you remember this place?" Tommy asks softly as they approach, his voice a soft murmur under his breath. There's people around him now, and he needs to be careful. He'd rather not be known as the weird quiet kid who talks to himself. He worries for a second that Tubbo won't be able to hear him, considering the bustle of the students around them, but the boy looks back at him without issue.

"Kind of? I kind of remember the building, but not really," He says, and Tommy can't help the slight disappointment. The boy's always been so excited to learn more about himself, and the fact that the knowledge is just out of his reach is saddening. "I'm still really excited, though. It's been getting kind of boring staying in your house all day, especially when Phil goes to work."

Tommy nods, and the two sit together on one of the benches, watching as students crowd in. At some point, someone sits right where Tubbo's sitting, causing the boy to squeak and let out a full body shiver. Tommy has to bite back his laughter as he jumps up and stands a few feet away, a flustered look on his face as he looks between the student and him, mouth agape in complete disbelief. "She can't see you, you know." He murmurs, amused, a lopsided sort of grin on his face. Despite the statement, Tubbo still looks incredibly flustered by the situation, and eventually just seats himself at Tommy's other side. 

The bell rings, and Tommy and Techno say their goodbyes to Wil. Tubbo does aswell, which Tommy informs Wil of, only for his brother to look in the complete wrong direction as he thanks the ghost. It's amusing, and Tommy bites back his laughter as he watches his brother walk into the crowd. God, he's going to be a giggly mess today, isn't he?

Techno, Tubbo and him walk into the building once most of the crowd has cleared, and Techno says his goodbyes and heads off in another direction. Once he leaves, Tommy turns to the boy, expression turning rather fond as he sees the boy looking around with an awestruck expression. "This place is so big." He says, craning neck to see how high the ceiling goes. 

"If you'd like, I could give you a little tour." Tommy offers, and the boy eagerly takes it up. So, for the few minutes he has until the bell rings, he shows Tubbo around the school, showing off the different hallways and different rooms. A few people pass through the boy unknowingly, and each time he gives an unpleasant sort of shudder. Tommy looks at him each time, concerned, only for the boy to smile at him encouragingly and ask him to continue the tour. They make it to Tommy's first class just before the bell rings, and for the entire day, Tommy cannot stop smiling. There's no open seats, so Tubbo is left to wander around the classroom or sit on the floor, watching the teacher go about the instruction.

It's like watching a little kid ready for their first day of school, and it's incredibly endearing.

When third period comes, Tommy isn't exactly excited. He's actually a little anxious for it, considering neither of his brothers were typically there to witness it. They didn't have any kind of idea what Tommy went through in that class, and now, his best friend would have to sit there and watch Tommy go through hell. His chest is tight with apprehension as he sits down, Tubbo standing to his side with a slightly confused look on his face. It isn't long until the antics start up yet again, and Tommy feels his ears turn pink both with embarrassment and frustration.

"Stop." He murmurs through grit teeth, and the kid snickers to himself, continuing to flick tiny pieces of paper at Tommy's neck. One hits him from the side, and when he looks out the corner of his eye, he sees the kid to his right has started doing the same thing. In fact, he has a whole row of wadded up pieces of notebook paper at the ready. Tommy's brows furrow at the sight, and he has to bite his tongue to prevent himself from swearing when another hits his neck and falls down his shirt. 

There's a loud thud behind him, one that cuts the teacher off from her lecture. Tommy's eyes widen, and when he turns around, he sees the kid's binder and textbook have fallen off his desk. He looks just as shocked at the action, and Tommy's eyebrows raise slightly once he notices Tubbo's stood to the kid's side. He looks just about done with the situation, brows furrowed as he glares at the kid. The teacher goes to lecture the kid about causing a disturbance in the class, and Tommy sits and watches as Tubbo picks up some of the pieces of paper and chucks them at her. 

Both kids are given detention that class, and though Tommy's anxious for what that means for him, he won't deny he's a bit happy about it. At lunch, he quietly thanks Tubbo for his actions, and the boy gives his arm a soft, fond squeeze. After his final period, Tommy shoots his brothers a text and says he needs to find something he left in one of his classes, requesting them to head home without him. A few minutes pass, but eventually both of them text him back, hoping he finds whatever he's looking for. He smiles, a nervous energy coursing through him as he heads back into the building, avoiding the main hall so that he doesn't pass where the department is having their meeting.

The cameras in the hallway seem to miss the classroom entirely, so as long as Tommy's quick enough, he should be able to get his tapes back no problem. They approach the door normally, with Tommy looking back and forth to make sure that nobody's coming from either direction. "Alright, Tubbo, now should be good- just go through and open the door for me." Tommy murmurs, and the boy nods, phasing through and unlocking the door with a faint click. Tommy opens the door, tiptoeing his way towards the teacher's desk. He tests the drawers, taking a few tries before he notices a set of keys hung up by the filing cabinet. He grabs it, ducking by the desk so that he can test the keys.

The drawer opens louder than Tommy would have liked, and he groans when he sees it's just full of papers. He locks it and moves on, cursing under his breath as he does each drawer. 

"What are you doing?"

Tommy yelps, trying to stand up and hitting his head on the desk. He swears, rubbing his head, and when he looks up towards the still open door, he sees another student. The guy has blond hair and freckles, a green hoodie and a pair of sweatpants on. He looks amused almost at whatever Tommy's doing, and his brows furrow the second he sees the smile on the guy's face. "None of your fucking business, alright?" He retorts, grabbing the keys and getting back to work with the drawers. The guy hums, walking into the classroom and shutting the door behind him.

"Are you looking for the confiscated items drawer?" The guy asks, and Tommy looks up again, an eyebrow quirked at the kid. He holds his gaze for a second, then nods. The guy grins. "Give me the keys, I know which one it is."

That's kind of sketchy, but to be fair, Tommy's technically broken into a classroom. He stands up and rubs the back of his head, tossing the guy the keys. He has to be at least a junior, maybe a senior. He walks behind the desk and goes to the last drawer, finding a key on the ring and opening it quicker than Tommy ever would. "What's your name?" He asks, watching the kid open the drawer with what must be a practiced ease. 

"Clay, but most people call me Dream. What did she take?" He says, and Tommy quickly answers:

"Tapes. A cassette player and a few tapes."

"Cool," Dream replies, rifling through the drawer and finding exactly what he's been looking for. He stands up, and Tommy's ready to thank him for his help, but he holds the bag up over his head and looks down at Tommy with a wicked grin. "Now, I'm a bit more lenient than Ms. Hudson, but you've still broken into a class to steal something. So I think I'm going to hang on to these." He says, and Tommy's mouth falls agape in shock. 

"What-? What the hell, man, just give me back my tapes-" He says, voice rising in volume. He jumps up to try and snatch them from Dream's hand, but the guy turns easily, blocking him off entirely. 

"I could always just tell Ms. Hudson that you broke into her classroom to steal your stuff back." He threatens, and it doesn't work at first, until the kid adds, "I'm pretty sure that would get you detention for a month, or suspended, even." The threat shuts him up quickly, and the kid grins. He sets the tapes just out of Tommy's reach, and plucks an empty sticky note off the teacher's desk, scrawling something down on it. "You got Discord?"

"Yeah?"

"Cool. Add me on Discord, and we can talk. It might take me a second, though. I have a student council meeting soon." He hands Tommy the sticky note, and Tommy looks down at it for a second before looking at the tapes, just out of reach. His stomach sinks, and he swallows his pride for a moment as he looks up to the kid.

"Just give me back my tapes, man, please."

Dream hums, and grabs the tapes for himself, putting them in his backpack. Then, he looks up at the clock ticking away at the front of the room, and grins at him. "You might want to get out of here. The administrators should be doing their rounds right about now." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> disc war time baby, but this time, it's cassette tapes! the feedback on this book has been incredible, and i'm so glad you guys are enjoying this book as much as i am! it'd be really incredible if this fic could get shared or gain a decent reputation, but i'm so happy with how things are going so far. i hope you all enjoy it as much as i do.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for all the comments on the recent chapters! I’m so glad you guys are enjoying this, and the comments really do mean so much. Things are kicking into high gear here, so I hope you all enjoy!

Tommy leaves the room as quick as he can. In fact, he leaves the _school_ as fast as he can, too scared of getting caught and being in more trouble to even walk out the front doors. When he finally makes it a good distance from the main entrance, he takes notice to the panting that comes from a few paces back. He turns his head and sees Tubbo a good distance away, hands on his knees as he sucks in heavy breaths. “Please stop for a second,” He requests, looking up now that they’ve both stopped. “The- The bee keeps dragging me.”

Tommy does stop, and he waits for Tubbo to catch up with him too. Now that the fear and general crushing disappointment has mostly settled in, he’s angry, and he finds himself pulling out the sticky note Dream had handed him. He scoffs, scowling at it while he pulls out his phone, continuing the walk back to his house. Tubbo is silently following along, wordless as Tommy opens Discord and sends Dream a friend request. It’s accepted shortly after, and Tommy doesn’t hesitate before sending the guy a few strongly worded messages.

_Tommyinnit: Fuck you_

_Tommyinnit: What the fuck is wrong with you_

_Tommyinnit: You’re a dick_

_Tommyinnit: Give me back my fucking tapes_

There’s no reply back, and that somehow frustrates him more. Dream’s probably in the middle of that student council thing or whatever, and his phone’s probably on silent. That doesn’t matter, though- not when Dream’s stolen his tapes and threatened to tell the administration, which had the possibility of getting him suspended. He doesn’t even know what the prick would want with him- he’s just some kid who moved here not even a full month ago. He doesn’t do any extracurricular activities, and he doesn’t share any classes with the guy, so he has absolutely no idea why he would decide to do this to him. 

Not a word is exchanged between him and Tubbo until they get home. Tommy almost starts a swearing fit as he goes to unlock the front door, the key getting stuck the first few times. When he finally unlocks it, he almost throws it open, kicking it shut behind him and dropping his backpack onto the bench. “Hey Tommy!” Phil greets from the living room, cheerful and oblivious, and Tommy bites back a reply. He doesn’t say anything, and instead walks back up to his room, Tubbo following behind him. Tommy doesn’t even look at him, and instead storms his way up to his room and throws himself on the bed, screaming into his pillow. 

“Tommy-?” Tubbo starts, and before he can get much else out, he sits up, running a hand through his hair and pulling. 

"Fuck, man!" He shouts. Tubbo flinches back at the noise, startled expression quickly shifting back to one of concern. "We almost fucking had it- we _almost_ fucking had it! We were so close, and then that stupid prick decided to take them for himself. What does he even want with them? What the hell does he want with _me?"_ He asks, and there's a slight pause as he gathers his breath. The second he has a lung full of fresh air, though, he's right back at it. "It's stupid- He's so stupid. I just wanted my tapes back, and now- now I'm being fucking _blackmailed."_

"We can try getting them back?" Tubbo offers, and Tommy huffs, brows furrowed in annoyance.

"How though? It's not like I know where he fucking lives, or where he's gonna fucking keep them," He retorts, and the boy shrinks back a little. Tommy's starting to feel a little bad about that, so he sighs, both of his hands coming up to tug at his hair as he flops backwards onto the bed. "I just want my tapes back, Tubbo. That's all I want." His voice sounds almost pathetic now, and after a second, he feels that familiar cool presence next to him. His palms are covering his eyes, and he doesn't pull them away. Considering the scared look the boy had given him before and the growing amount of guilt festering in his chest, Tommy really doesn't want to look the boy in the eyes just yet. 

"Can you- Can you make new ones?" The boy suggests. "You can get a new cassette player and a few tapes, and you can record new ones. You don't need the old ones." Tommy's hands drag down his face, pulling at his cheeks until they slip off his chin and land flat on his chest. The boy's expression is pitying and concerned, and considering how much of a baby Tommy's being about the whole situation, it really doesn't feel deserved. Still, Tommy shakes his head at the suggestion.

"No, I-I don't think so. The one with Wilbur's songs was recorded when he was still making them. He's changed them up a bit since then." Tommy explains. He pointedly leaves out the detail that asking Wilbur to play his songs again so that he can record them from the other side of his door would be so humiliating. He can already imagine the endeared little coo that his brother would give him, playful and teasing and embarrassing enough that Tommy would probably give up on his endeavor. "And I spent so many hours finding and recording the songs I wanted on the others. It took so long."

There's a silent moment between them, and Tommy takes the time to collect himself. The loss has settled into his chest, a sinking feeling that makes each limb feel ten times heavier. Wilbur's leaving in the next year or so, too. That tape was a wonderfully constructed illusion of closeness with his brother, both when he was making it and whenever they were distant. He closes his eyes, groaning softly, almost a whine. A faint touch trails over his forehead, and he shivers against it. He opens his eyes just slightly, watching as Tubbo's hand traces over his hair, pushing it out from his eyes and pressing it back. It's more relaxing than he'd like to admit. He closes his eyes again.

”Do you want to play a video game? We could also go to New L’manburgh, now that I can turn invisible.” The boy offers, and Tommy thinks on it for a second before sighing. They haven’t been able to return to the tree house for weeks, and considering the leaves were starting to fall off the trees, it would be good to clean it up one last time. They probably wouldn’t be able to return in the winter season, and it’d be better for the wood if he cleaned out all the dead leaves before they rotted away. There’s no use just sitting here and waiting for Dream to answer his messages- the guy said it himself, he’s at a meeting. He probably won’t be available for a while.

Still, Tommy reaches for his phone and sends one last message to the kid. 

_TommyInnit: You’re not the only one with shit to do, dickhead_

And with that, he pockets his phone and sits upright. “Yeah, alright.” He murmurs, and there’s a slight lift in his chest when he sees the pleased smile on the boy’s face. He tries to prevent the expression from mirroring on his own, tucking his chin to his collar in an attempt to hide the awkward smile that tugs at the corner of his mouth. He can hear the boy laugh a little at his attempt, and Tommy looks up, grinning just a little wider. “Shut up.” He says, and he reaches forward to push on the boy’s shoulder, only resulting in louder laughs as his hand phases right through. 

The sort of hopelessness he felt hasn’t left him. Not entirely. But, as he shrugs his coat on and gathers his things, telling Phil that he and Tubbo are returning to the tree house, he feels just a little lighter. The distraction is pleasant and mindless, keeping him at bay. It helps that Tubbo seems incredibly excited to return, trying to hand things off to him so that he can put them in the bag. For the most part, each item he tries handing falls to the floor, but Tommy doesn’t mind picking it up again and putting it in his bag. Tubbo’s more or less slapping the things in his direction, really, and it’s incredibly amusing. He wonders if that’s what all ghosts did when they got the ability to move things. 

“Hey Tommy.” Wilbur says, and Tommy turns his head towards the doorway to the kitchen. “Did you find what you were looking for at school?” He asks, and he shifts his eyes between him and Tubbo, who has since stopped knocking over everything that happened to be in their kitchen sink. The question causes guilt and frustration to course through him like a venom, but he does his best not to let it show. As much as he admires his older brother, the last thing he needs right now is the theater and music nerd threatening a _‘stern talking to’_ with a kid on the student council. 

“Yeah,” He says, and his voice cracks on it. He clears his throat, already taking note of the slight eyebrow raise he’s earned. “Yeah, I did. We’re actually going to the tree house, now.” He explains. It swiftly changes the subject, and Wil seems absolutely delighted by it. He’s grinning at him, hand sort of fidgety at his side.

”New L’manburgh, right?” He asks, and Tommy nods. "Can I come?"

The question catches Tommy a little off guard, eyebrow quirking at him as a slight smile traces his lips. It's been a while since he's gone out with his brother- Wil's more of an indoor person than he is an outdoor. "You're serious?" He asks, and when Wil nods, his grin grows a little wider. "Yeah, alright." He says, and watches as Wil's grin stretches a little further, expression lighting up. An excitement blooms in Tommy's chest, fluttery and light. "You know, this might be the last time we can go before it gets too cold. We haven't been in a while either, so it's probably got a bunch of leaves and shit." He adds, putting the things Tubbo's brought out for him into his backpack. 

He's not exactly worried about Wil seeing the tree house, but the idea of his brother finally hanging out with him only to see a dingy and messy tree house isn't exactly ideal. Still, Wil smiles at him and waits for him to gather everything. Tommy's just about to shout to Phil that they're leaving when he stops, quirking a brow at Wil. "Do you think Techno would want to come?" He asks.

Techno would occasionally visit them when they went to Old L'manburgh. Not often, but those were the best days, where they would play with dart guns and use sticks as swords. Those would be the days where they'd stay out until the late evening, and Phil would have to pick them up. Whoever had the most energy left would call shotgun, and the others would be left to pile into the backseat, listening to whatever songs played as they drove home. Techno was more of an indoor person than Wil was, and that made the days they went their together special. For a simple cleaning trip, Tommy's not exactly sure it's worth it. Especially considering how cold it's gotten recently.

Wil thinks on it for a second, then answers, "Maybe on the first day of spring. That way we can stay out longer." That answer is satisfactory enough, Tommy giving a nod in reply. His tone picks up a bit as he speaks again, adding, "Plus, he's just gotten into another rivalry. You know how he gets with that."

And oh, does Tommy know exactly how Techno gets with that. Once he decides something is worthwhile, he doesn't fucking stop. He'd had another rival before they moved. Tommy never even learned the dude's real name; Techno would only refer to him as his discord name, and would spend days staying up just to compete. He would actively contemplate psychological warfare if it meant getting ahead. 

If he’s just as enthusiastic for this rivalry as he was for the previous, Tommy pities whatever poor fool had been selected. 

When they leave, they begin talking about school. Tommy does his best to avoid talking about his own school experiences, focusing more on what Wil's been doing. There’s no way Wilbur doesn’t notice the deflection, but he doesn’t bring it up either, so he considers it a win for now. Instead, he listens to him talk about a few interesting people in his theater class, like a cute German girl and a Dutch kid with strange hair. Tommy can’t help the teasing grin that stretches across his face when he mentions the girl, and Wil immediately takes note of it, cheeks dusting pink as he shoves his shoulder.

”He likes her, doesn’t he?” Tubbo muses from his side, a mischievous sort of grin on his face. He’s wiggling his eyebrows, and Tommy can’t help the fucking giggle that escapes him at the sight. The boy’s words fall deaf to anyone but him, so when Wil hears his brother’s snickering, he only grows more red. 

“No wonder he’s been in such a good mood recently.” Tommy mumbles right back, and his comment earns another round of laughter from the boy. 

“What are you two saying?” Wil asks, and the laugh Tommy lets out is loud and almost wheezy. It answers nothing, and his brows furrow in annoyance as he watches the blond laugh and gasp for air, breaking out into a fit of giggles before he can properly get a word out. “Is Tubbo in on this too?” He asks, and he sounds almost offended, and that sends both of them into a laughing fit. Tubbo’s laugh is nice. Quieter than his, but with little gasps for air that cause his voice to take on a more shrill tone every now and then. It’s not anything new; Tommy’s hung out with the boy more than enough to hear him laugh. That doesn’t make it any less pleasant. 

Eventually they reach the point where they need to walk into the woods, and Tommy talks Wilbur through the directions. He mentions the babble of the creek and how they would need to keep an ear out, and he starts rambling about how nice the clearing is. It’s been a while since their last visit, nearly a month or so, but as they continue walking, the locations become more familiar. “I reckon you can become visible now, Tubbo,” Tommy says once they get a good few feet away from the main road. “We’re far enough out that nobody should see.”

The boy nods compliantly, and Tommy watches as he becomes a little more opaque- a little more there. And while he’s not entirely opaque, small sunbeams shooting straight through him, Tommy thinks he looks just a little more lively. Maybe it’s the fact that they can finally leave the house together now. 

They find the creek soon enough, the sound of running water guiding their way to it’s bank. Tommy hops across the rocks out into the river, and he watches as his brother follows him, feet landing on each stone Tommy’s stepped on. He almost feels like making it harder just for the purpose of seeing if his brother would follow, but he’s much more likely to fall into the cold water that way. Even if school isn’t the greatest, he’d rather not get sick. The lecture he’d earn from Phil would be devastating. 

Tubbo watches them go from the river bank, smiling as Wil has to extend his arms to stop himself from slipping into the water. Both he and Tommy have to watch their steps to make sure they don’t slip and fall, childish grins on their faces as they go. It makes Tubbo the first to spot the clearing, pointing out the arrival to the rest of the group. Tommy looks up, mouth agape and excited as he spots it, and quickly jumps his way to the other bank. Wil follows after, stumbling a little bit and very nearly falling backwards into the water, but he steadies himself just in time. 

The clearing isn’t as pretty as when they’d left it, but it’s pleasant all the same. Much more leaves have fallen, littering the dried grass with warm hues. It renders the trees around the clearing splotchy and partly bare, revealing spindly little limbs that stretch out in every direction. Light shines through still, illuminating the area more than before, but the cold chill leaves no warmth to prove it. It’s a little bit of a let down, but also an inevitability. Besides, he’s sure this place is most beautiful during the warmer months anyways. When bees will gather and pollinate the flowers, and the canopies will thicken and send sunlight shooting down in specks. 

When spring comes, one of the first things on Tommy’s list is to come here with all three of his brothers, and raise the New L’manburgh flag. 

“Come on, I can show you the tree house,” Tommy says, looking towards his brother with a grin. He doesn’t break out into a run, primarily because he’s not sure he would willingly keep up with him. And also maybe because the last time he broke out into a full sprint, Tubbo was dragged along, unable to keep up on his own. So for now, he walks, guiding both of them across the clearing. The grass is still soft from where it shoots up, blowing idly with the breeze. The gentle wind sends dried leaves falling past them, little dots of yellow, orange, red, and brown flying by. When they reach the base, Tommy points out the fourth rung in the ladder. “Be careful on that one. I had to replace it with a stick, and I’m not entirely sure how sturdy it is.”

Wilbur nods, and Tommy and Tubbo are the first two up the ladder. The fourth rung holds his weight well, and when he reaches the top, he looks around the small house. As to be expected, some of those leaves have blown in from the unprotected windows, creating a thin layer of them on the floor. But apart from that, everything seems almost just how he left it. Luckily, the pine scent is gone. 

Wilbur doesn’t have any trouble with the ladder it seems, as he quickly joins them in the tree house. It’s by no means small, tall enough to fit even him, with maybe a few extra inches to spare. Jumping up maybe wouldn’t be the best idea, and would likely result in a mild head injury, but he’s able to walk around just fine. He takes in the area around him, noting the thin layer of leaves and how the main base of the tree shoots through the middle of the floor. He’s wordless, so Tommy takes the time to start cleaning out all the dried leaves, kicking them into small piles and then tossing them out the nearest window. 

“I haven’t really gotten the chance to furnish it, but I’ve got a few ideas.” Tommy says idly, slowly chucking more leaves out. He’s a little anxious at the fact Wil hasn’t said anything, a doubt creeping into his mind that maybe he should have cleaned up a little more before letting him come over. He looks up and towards his brother, and finds him looking at where their names are carved, fingers idly tracing over. He looks as if his heart’s just melted, and when he realizes Tommy’s stopped talking, he turns and faces his brother with a grin. 

“What ideas did you have?”

Tommy smiles, and has the three of them sit down in a little triangle on the floor. Ultimately, it’s up to him and Tubbo what they want to add to the tree house, but having Wil there to confirm whether or not it’s a good idea is useful. Tommy points out different spots on the tree and suggests getting a few battery powered string lights, that way the place won’t be so dark during the nights- if they stayed here when it gets dark, that is. He also suggests bringing an old lawn chair or two, that way they have something more comfortable to sit on than the wooden planks that construct the house. Wil seems very enthusiastic about the lights idea, and points out different places they could hang, suggesting that they wrap around the main trunk. They need to find lights that are long enough, but both he and Tubbo adore the idea.

Tommy also suggests adding a hammock, pointing out different locations they could string one up. He isn’t sure if he would ever sleep here, but a hammock would definitely be cozy and fun. They’d have to save up for it, definitely, but both he and Wil think it would make a nice addition. Their conversation gives them several ideas, providing a pleasant distraction from the otherwise shitty day Tommy’s been having. There’s still a weight to him, and he’s sure he’ll be aching once he tries to find sleep tonight, but for now, everything feels just a little lighter. 

Time passes by, and soon enough the cold begins to get to them. Tommy adds another layer of polish to the floor, leaving before the pine scent can give him another ungodly headache. Once it’s all set for the winter, he climbs down the ladder, meeting his brother at the bottom. The weather is cool enough that there’s no delaying their leave, all three of the boys deciding to walk on the bank of the creek as opposed to hopping from stone to stone. It’s still fun and nice, peace between them as they make their way to the tree line. Tubbo turns himself invisible just a few feet away from the road, and the three of them continue their walk back home. 

Conversation comes and goes, the sun setting earlier than it would have weeks ago. It paints the sky a pale blue color, clouds catching sunlight and turning orange and pink in hue. It isn’t the golden sunset, but it’s nice all the same. It does, however, cause the hair on the back of his neck to raise, urging him to arrive home sooner rather than later. 

When they do arrive back home, the warmth eases away any tension gained by the cold. Tommy sighs as it envelopes him, kicking off his shoes at the door and walking further into the house. He can hear noises coming from the kitchen, and realizes after a second that Phil must be cooking dinner. It hasn’t felt like they were gone for so long, but then again, this had been the last chance they had this year. From now on they would be hanging out inside the house until things get warmer. 

Tommy makes his way into the kitchen, greeting Phil as he kneels in front of the sink. “Did you boys have fun?” Phil asks, and Tommy can tell from the way he says it that he’s touched. That he’s happy his sons are going out and having fun again.

”Yeah, we did.”

They eat dinner in the living room that night, watching an episode of Star Wars on the television. It’s mostly for Techno’s sake, considering he was sat there first, already midway through. There’s barely enough space on the couch, so with Phil’s permission, both Tommy and Tubbo sit themselves on the floor, their backs pressed against the base of the couch. Tommy doesn’t particularly care for the movies, but they’re still pleasant to watch, even if his occasional comments have Techno kicking the back of his head and telling him to shut up. 

They finish the movie well into the night, and Phil offers to do the dishes in the morning. With that, the three boys head upstairs, Tommy setting the stuffed animal down on his bed before taking a shower. He comes back to his room dressed in his pajamas, wet strands of hair poking every which way from when he’d dried it with a towel. It’s late, and Tommy’s tired, finding his way to the bed. He’s had to wear warmer pajamas to account for Tubbo’s colder body temperature, and the two find a small comfort that way, staying close even as the temperature around them drops.

Tommy doesn’t sleep easily. He would think he would after three weeks without his tapes to aid him. But he doesn’t, thoughts keeping him up. It’s a sick feeling that bides in his chest and lower stomach, one that nags at the back of his head just as he’s about to drift off. It’s frustrating, and he contemplates screaming into his pillow if it means he’ll get any relief. Instead, rudely, his phone vibrates, and his eyes shoot open. He’s met with darkness, and he almost groans once he recalls he left his phone in his jacket pocket. He gets out of bed slowly, hoping not to disturb the friend cuddled up to him. He doesn’t turn on a light either, which makes finding the device much more difficult. It vibrates again as if to taunt him, and he almost growls at that, eventually finding his jacket and practically tearing his phone from the pocket. 

He squints against the harsh light, turning the brightness down so that way he can actually read the notification. His gaze is blurry, and he huffs, rubbing away the tiredness from his eyes. He’s half tempted to ignore the notifications entirely, but it’s not like he can sleep anyways, and if the notifications keep popping up, he won’t be able to ignore them for long. When he can finally read the notification, his brows furrow and his jaw clenches, and he contemplated chucking the phone across the room. 

_DreamWasTaken: sorry, practice ran a little long_

_DreamWasTaken: you have good taste in music_

Tommy sits down on his bed, posture hunched over the device as he opens the app. He starts typing, getting increasingly frustrated with each typo he makes. Autocorrect doesn’t help him in the slightest, and instead twists it so the sentence he has is completely incomprehensible. A low growl forms in the back of his throat as he deletes some of the words, swapping them out for the ones he actually meant to type. In the time this takes him, Dream sends another message. God, this guy is annoying.

_DreamWasTaken: but you’re not going to get your tapes back by swearing at me_

Tommy doesn’t care whether or not it’ll get his tapes back. He sends his message anyways. _  
_

_TommyInnit: You are so fucking insufferable. You absolute piece of shit. give me back my fucking tapes. Do you have any idea how long it took to make those? How long they’ve already been taken from me? You’re a piece of shit. You’re such a fucking dick_

There’s only a second or two between that message and his reply.

_DreamWasTaken: you wound me_

_TommyInnit: Good_

The next hour or so is spent texting him, calling him various insults. He’s actually left on read a few times, Dream’s discord status showing he’s online, but not giving him a reply for minutes on end. It’s infuriating, and Tommy makes sure to tell him as such whenever Dream bothers to send him another message. Eventually the fight bleeds out of him, that lingering feeling off loss bleeding through him. He doesn’t want to give in- he absolutely wants to kick the kid’s teeth in. But instead, he types out his message, and sends it.

_TommyInnit: What do you even want with my tapes? Can i please just have them back? I worked really hard for them_

It’s embarrassing, giving in like that, but Tommy’s tired. Tired of staying up like this, tired of squinting at his screen and tired of the coffee addiction he’s definitely gained over the past few weeks. He just wants a normal sleep schedule, and the comfort of having the tapes he’s had for so long back in his possession. Dream replies almost instantly to this message.

_DreamWasTaken: maybe if you play nice i’ll give them back_

Tommy doesn’t have the patience for this anymore. He sends on final ‘fuck you’ and shuts his phone off, setting it on his nightstand to charge. His phone doesn’t buzz for the rest of the night, though a small part of Tommy wishes it would- that way he could express just how much he wants to tear this kid apart. He definitely wouldn’t be able to, not on his own at least, but the desire to do so is strong. Even as phantom hands find their way around him, a gentle embrace, he finds himself waking up every now and then, checking his phone for notifications.

He receives none for the rest of the night. 

He wakes up the next morning disgruntled and exhausted. He checks his phone once or twice to see if maybe Dream has replied to him, but there’s no such luck. He is offline, though, so maybe he’ll respond a little later. Tommy sighs, getting dressed and ready for school, gathering his backpack, homework, and the stuffed bee. The fact he had to go to school at all was incredibly annoying, considering the circumstances. Things would have been much easier if the department had decided to hold their meeting on a Friday as opposed to a Thursday.

The morning goes by in almost a blur, the caffeine from his coffee having yet to kick in. He checks his phone every few minutes, anxiously waiting for a new message, or even just for Dream to hop online. Luckily, neither his brothers, his dad, or Tubbo choose to bring it up to him. He doesn’t even know if he’d be able to reply, with how absolutely exhausted he is. He just wants to make it through the day, get home, and pass out for the next three days. 

The walk to school is quiet and dark, colder than it was before. It’s very difficult to see, and Tommy almost feels like passing out. He waits until he reaches one of the benches outside the front of the school, sitting down on the uncomfortable grated metal. He doesn’t lay down or try to sleep; he doesn’t want to be seen as that weirdo. But he does slump over his backpack, holding it close to his chest as he nonchalantly checks his phone. 

Another thing he’s missed since losing his tapes has been the muted conversations. The music had a tendency to drown out the sounds around him, preventing him from getting a headache. But, as more people flock towards the outside of the school, conversation picks up, and it makes his brows furrow and his jaw clench. 

“Are you texting a _girl,_ Tommy?” The aforementioned boy looks up, mouth slightly agape as he stares at his brother in pure annoyance. The look Techno’s giving him is smug and amused, and Tommy gives him an annoyed huff in return.

”No, I’m fucking not,” He mutters, going back to his phone. Dream’s online, now, and Tommy shoots him a message the second he notices.

_TommyInnit: You’re such a bitch_

”Oh, thank god,” Techno says, and Tommy very nearly swears at him when he sits himself down next to him. “The day you text a girl is the day the world ends, and I’m not quite prepared. I haven’t made a new bunker yet.” He teases, and now Tommy does look up, fully annoyed. His phone vibrates in his hand, and though that almost brings his attention back, he forces himself to ignore it for now.

”Techno, can you please fuck off?” He asks, rolling his eyes at the boy before returning his attention back to the conversation. His phone buzzes in his hand again as another one of Dream’s messages goes through.

_DreamWasTaken: good morning to you too_

_DreamWasTaken: how are you doing?_

Tommy reads them quickly, fingers flying to reply. They’re slightly shaky due to his exhaustion and the cold, and he nearly growls at the multiple spelling errors that occur. He works to correct them, not even noticing his brother looking over his shoulder. 

“Wait, you have his Discord?” Techno asks, sounding genuinely appalled, and Tommy doesn’t even look up when he answers.

”Yeah, I do. Now shut up for a second.” He mutters, glaring at his screen. He gives up on correcting any more spelling mistakes, the conversations of people around him throwing him off entirely. He sends it as is, then, finally, processes what his brother’s just said. “Wait, wait- you know him? You know Dream?” He asks, voice a little bit louder as he talks, complete disbelief tracing every word. Techno nods. 

“Of course I do, he’s in my English class.” He answers, as if it’s common knowledge. Tommy’s mouth falls agape.

”Why didn’t you fucking tell me?!”

”I didn’t know you knew him!” Techno replies, his voice taking on that raspy sort of tone it often takes whenever he and Tommy get into a shouting match. They aren’t shouting, really, but the tone carries the same effect. “Besides, I did tell you! He’s the guy I picked to be my new nemesis!” He adds, and Tommy buries his face in his hand and groans. Of fucking course he is. He knew the kid was a junior, and of course he's in Techno’s class. “Wait, _wait.”_ Techno starts, voice dropping as if he’s just realized something awful. Tommy quirks an eyebrow at him, his expression dead serious. _“_ Give me his Discord.” 

“What the hell, Techno!” Tommy asks, lifting his head from his hand. He stares at his brother with nothing but pure exasperation, watching as the guy raises his hands defensively. “I’m not going to-“ He starts, completely and utterly ready to chastise his brother for attempting to commit psychological warfare. He stops himself short, though, a wicked realization coming to mind. He has to even his expression so as not to look like a mad man. “Actually, you know what? Why not.” A little bit of revenge is justified, Tommy’s sure. He doesn’t fucking care about this guy anyways. If he happens to get mad because Techno keeps bothering him, it isn’t his problem, really. Besides, it might be funny. 

Techno’s smiling at him as he opens Dream’s profile information, showing his brother the user ID. He waits until Techno sends the guy a friend request, then asks, "How much do you know about the guy anyhow?"

There's a chance Techno could provide him with some useful information. And, maybe in turn, he'll have useful information for him as well. He already sort of owes him for the whole Discord thing. Techno looks at his phone for a moment, likely waiting for his friend request to be accepted. "He's the junior class president, and I'm pretty sure he's on the football team. Or at the very least he gets real excited about the games." He answers, not even looking up from his phone. A sly, malicious sort of grin stretches across his lips. The friend request must have been accepted. "He's pretty loud, pretty well known. Decent grades."

Tommy hums, processing the information. A few ideas come to mind, but he'd have to figure out how to put them into action. For now, he settles on teasing his older brother. "Y'know, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you're obsessed with him," He muses, a lopsided sort of grin falling onto his face as Techno quirks a brow at him. He shrugs. "I'm just saying, it sort of sounds like you have a crush on the fellow."

Techno rolls his eyes so hard Tommy thinks it might hurt. 

"I do _not."_ He rebuttals, voice monotonous and vaguely threatening. It does nothing to dissuade him from talking. 

"Sure, sure, just like how you didn't have a crush on Squid."

He's lucky the bell rings shortly after, Techno forgoing the wait and instead tagging along with Wil as he goes inside. Tommy laughs at him as he goes, unable to stop the wide sort of grin from stretching up his lips. Techno's straight, of course, but it was always fun to tease his brothers about a potential crush, regardless of the person's gender. Hell, there were countless times where they would tease Wil over how much he talked about Schlatt. It was just a thing they did.

School goes by just as it had before, with Tubbo enthusiastically paying attention during the lectures. He spends part of his time listening in on local drama, whispering it in Tommy's ear when things are going especially slow. He just manages to stifle his giggles as Tubbo points out a pair of students from across the room who appear to be mid debate, and whispers, _"They're deffo flirting."_ as if he's some gossipy school girl. Instead, he lowers his chin to his chest, sucking in uneven breaths as he shakes his head. He keeps his phone on all day, waiting for the eventual message back from Dream. He only receives one just after his second period, asking him to meet him in the library.

It means he'll have to forgo lunch, but for the opportunity to get his tapes back, he thinks it's worth it. 

When lunch comes, Tommy doesn't even bother walking to the cafeteria. The conversation is definitely going to take longer than the two minutes he would have if he did go and eat lunch. So, instead, he walks to the library. He actually hasn't been in here since joining the school, and the scent of worn books that greets him is pleasant. Not unexpected, just more potent than he would have thought. There are different art projects propped on top of the shelves; cardboard and construction paper glued together to form abstract shapes. It reminds him of something between a drug induced hallucination and a product of synesthesia. 

There's a few different paintings hung up on the walls as well, as well as a framed guide for safe internet usage. However, as he looks around, he notices something a little more important. Techno is sat at a table maybe fifty or so feet away, laptop set up in front of him as he types away. Tommy very nearly contemplates hiding behind one of the smaller bookshelves, anxious about his affairs with Dream. Techno was hardly ever nosy, but if something took his interest, there was no deterring him. Tommy eventually decides against it after watching his brother work for a minute or two, not once looking up from his screen. There are a few other people working in the library as well, it isn't likely that Techno would notice him in the one or two times he'd look up.

Tommy sighs, a little relieved for his brother's workaholic nature. Still, it feels awkward just standing around, so he goes to one of the bookshelves and plucks out a book at random. It has an almost raunchy cover, not a book that Tommy would expect to be found in a students' library, but who is he to judge? It just means he'll be less bored while he waits for Dream. He sits himself down at one of the empty tables, propping the book up like he's in the middle of reading it. His eyes scan the page, finding flowery language that doesn't particularly interest him- a teenage romance that he definitely doesn't care about. Instead, he shuffles his phone out of his pocket, propping it up against the pages, and shoots Dream a text.

_TommyInnit: Where the fuck are you_

Unlike the previous messages, he gets a reply not too long after. 

_DreamWasTaken: im coming, give me a second_

Tommy huffs at the message, closing the app and shutting off his phone. He waits there, Tubbo off exploring the bits of the library that he can reach with his tether. It's nice to know the boy isn't attached to his hip anymore, but it does end up making Tommy all the more frustrated and awkward as he sits and waits. Seconds feel like minutes, and he begins to think it wouldn't be unlikely for Dream to just leave him here, the whole ordeal just being a sick tactic to mess with him. But, after what feels like an eternity, Tommy glances up just in time to see Dream approaching him, smirk on his face.

He's got that same green hoodie on, along with a pair of school branded sweat pants. It's almost the same outfit as the day before, if not for the school jersey he wears over the hoodie, the green of the hoodie poking through the mesh fabric. Tommy's brows furrow at him as he pulls a out a chair at the opposite end of the table, sitting down. "Why are you dressed like that?" He asks, annoyed by everything about this kid. The stupid smirk isn't helping anything.

"There's a football game after school today, remember?" Dream answers, and Tommy glares at him for the almost coy, friendly tone that his voice takes. Dream gives him no acknowledgement, eyes flicking down to the book and then back up to him. "Doing some light reading while you were waiting for me? I didn't take you for the romantic type."

"I'm not, it just took you a fucking while," Tommy mutters, and he shuts the book almost forcefully, sliding it away from him like it carries a deadly disease. That only makes the kid grin wider, and Tommy scowls at him, jaw setting. "You know, I could be eating right now. I'm fucking hungry, actually, but instead I'm stuck talking here with _you."_ He says, voice raising slightly in volume, tone incredulous. 

"You didn't have to come, you know." Dream says, quirking an eyebrow at him. Tommy huffs.

"Sure I didn't." He crosses his arms, glaring as he sits back in the chair. Just over Dream's shoulder, he can see Tubbo's taken an interest in the conversation, standing a few feet behind him. The two make eye contact, and Tommy quickly sets his gaze back on Dream, as if he'll somehow get caught looking at his ghost friend. If he's noticed any strange behavior, he doesn't let it show on his face. "What the hell do you want with me anyways? It was really fucking rude of you to steal my tapes."

"The same could be said for you breaking into a teacher's room." Dream quips back. His tone isn't exactly smug, but it is patronizing, as if Tommy's some insolent child that Dream's bares the burden of dealing with. It stokes a fire in Tommy's chest, his eyebrows raising as he gestures out towards the guy.

"Yeah, but that doesn't fucking matter! You didn't even know me until then- it wasn't any of your fucking business!" He says, incredulous, mouth falling agape as he watches Dream lift a finger to his lips. Oh, that _fucking dickhead-_

"Quiet. You don't want to get kicked out of the library, do you?" He asks, and the amusement slips carelessly into his voice now. Tommy goes to speak, to swear at the guy until his ears bleed, but the words catch in his throat. Not because he thinks Dream is right or anything. No, definitely not that. He stops because just over Dream's shoulder, Tubbo's pointing at the kid's backpack, looking to him for direction. Because, Tommy realizes, maybe Dream's carrying the tapes on him. And maybe, if they work quick enough, Tubbo can steal them back right now. 

Tommy nods, eyes landing on the table, chin to chest so as to hide any possible emotion that might show on his face. "You're right," He murmurs, if only to appease the guy before him, and as he looks up, it seems that it's worked. Dream's smiling at him with a smug grin, appearing none the wiser. Tommy plays the part, sighing as he slumps against the chair. When he speaks again, his voice is quieter than it was before. "But still, what do you even want with me? I haven't done anything to you."

"I'm just trying to have a little fun." Dream says, and his words cause Tommy's brows to furrow in confusion. He sounds almost taunting, and nothing on his expression betrays that idea. "It doesn't matter what you have or haven't done to me. Because you care about your tapes, a lot." He says it, and Tommy can't help but glance back at Tubbo, who's slowly unzipping Dream's backpack. He wasn't ever able to lift the tapes before, but he's gotten stronger now. Surely he should be able to pull them out once he finds them. Dream speaks again, calling back Tommy's attention. "And, if you still care about them, you'll do what I say."

A lump forms in Tommy's throat. "Like what?" He asks, unable to keep the slight waver out from his voice. He isn't scared, not really, but the idea of Dream doing something to his tapes is enough to put him at unease. Dream shrugs nonchalantly, leaning back in the chair.

"I don't know yet. I'm sure I'll figure something out." Tommy isn't sure if that's a blessing or a curse. It means Dream hasn't entirely thought this through, and doesn't know what he wants to use him for yet. But that just means he can technically bend Tommy to his whim if he really wanted to. "You said you're hungry?" Dream asks, and Tommy quirks a brow at him, completely distrusting. "Lets call it here, then, and we can figure it out later."

"I don't think I'm hungry anymore." Tommy huffs, and the guy stares at him. It's a lie, of course- his strained sleep schedule has also affected his appetite. But that's not something Dream has to know. 

He hums, considering it, and then twists around in the chair. Tubbo yelps and jumps back, and Tommy's eyes widen, thinking they must have been caught. But, Dream doesn't notice, Tubbo's invisibility holding up despite the brief loss of focus. And, if Dream's confused about why his backpack is half open, it doesn't show. Instead, he reaches in, pulling out two granola bars. He stands up, sliding them both across the table to him. "You should probably eat still," Dream says, and Tommy just glares at him, not yet reaching out to accept the offer. They hold eye contact for a second, then Dream gives him an easy smile, zipping up his backpack and giving him a wave. "Well, I'll see you around."

Tommy doesn't answer, watching as Dream leaves the library entirely. He waits until the kid is long gone, then sighs, reluctantly pulling the granola bars towards himself. He isn't even sure if the cafeteria is providing food anymore. This might be the only option he has. There's a painful sort of defeat in his chest as he takes a bite, glaring at the empty chair as if it could apologize on the kid's behalf. Instead, it stays painfully empty. "Did he have the tapes?" Tommy asks after a second, once Tubbo's made his way around the table and to Tommy's side. 

Tommy nearly groans as Tubbo shakes his head. This is gonna fucking suck.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> take this fucking behemoth of a chapter, you gremlins

The rest of the day goes just about how Tommy would expect. Tubbo manages to fend off the annoying kids in his third period, pushing them and causing them to get in some serious trouble. It’s the only satisfying part of his day so far, and he has to restrain his laughter as he watches Tubbo smack the back of the kid’s head with enough force to jerk him forwards. The kid turns and looks around frantically, confused, and Tommy focuses very hard on keeping his gaze forward and set on the lecture. It doesn’t completely avert suspicion, but the teacher’s oblivious, and ends up threatening further detention if they cause any more disruptions. 

The granola bars do help him get through the day. His stomach still aches faintly, but it’s not nearly as bad as if he had skipped lunch entirely. It’s manageable. When the final bell rings and the four of them make their way home, the first thing Tommy does is head to the kitchen for a few snacks. Wil heads upstairs to his room, Techno stays in the living room, and finally, Tubbo follows him into the kitchen. Tommy pulls out a few tasty looking biscuits for himself, along with a Diet Coke. Not the best substitute for a meal, but ruining his appetite for dinner isn’t a good idea. 

The two of them sit in the kitchen, different plots and ideas floating through his mind as he eats. Some seem like better ideas than others, but each one seems just out of reach. He doesn’t know everything he needs to about the situation, and he’s sure Dream wouldn’t answer him if he asked. The man surely wouldn’t assist in his own loss of leverage. If he wants any of his ideas to run smoothly, he’ll need information, well thought out planning, and time; all resources he isn’t sure he has available to him. Dream didn’t have any set thoughts in mind yet- nothing he was going to force him to do. But, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t figure it out. And when he did, that would be a whole new problem to sort out. 

“Any ideas?” Tubbo asks. Tommy swallows, the biscuits landing like rocks in his stomach, and he shakes his head. His brows are furrowed as he wipes the crumbs away from his mouth. 

“A few, but none of them seem possible right now.” Tommy murmurs, and he can’t help but feel a tad dejected by it all. He’d been so hopeful yesterday that he would get his tapes back- that he could finally just pass out for a weekend and never have to deal with this issue again. And instead, he’s gotten himself blackmailed and without the tapes, taken by another student instead of an administrator. It’s not like he can tell Phil what’s going on- the man would get pissed, and then he’d have to confess to breaking into a teacher’s room. How was he even supposed to explain how he’d entered? Tubbo had phased through the wall and unlocked it, and well, Tubbo wasn’t exactly... well, he was a ghost, and who in their right mind would believe that?

Maybe if he hadn’t gone and tried to steal them back, he could have gotten Phil involved. That would have made things much easier. Unfortunately, stealing was often the first thing Tommy’s brain went to; a result of being transferred between multiple less-than-ideal foster homes in previous years. The habit had died out once he realized that Phil was a genuinely nice person, but with the loss of his tapes, his mind had simply defaulted. Not only would Phil’s influence now land him in more trouble than it was worth, he _really_ doesn’t want to deal with the man’s disappointment that he’s sure would await him. 

“You didn’t see them in his backpack, did you? Do you think they could have been in another pocket?” He asks, trying to gain as much information as he can. Tubbo shakes his head.

”I couldn’t check. I didn’t have enough time,” He answers, and Tommy can’t help but swear under his breath, taking a bite of one of the biscuits. Despite the fact he isn’t even looking at the ghost anymore, eyes instead trained on the countertop, the boy continues. “But from what I could tell, he didn’t have them in his backpack. He probably left them at home or something.” 

While the idea is likely, it’s also the worst possible outcome. Because if Dream’s taken the tapes home and hasn’t been bringing them to school with him, there’s no way Tommy will be able to get them back. He could somehow get himself invited over to Dream’s house, but the idea of that seems so incredibly unlikely. Their interactions have allowed him to get an idea of the kid, and he’s pretty sure the guy is smart enough not to bring him to where the tapes are. Dream might not dislike him, but he doesn’t trust him either. It makes every interaction more infuriating than the last. 

“He probably left them in his locker, if that helps.” Tommy looks up, nearly falling off the stool with how quickly his body jerks. A cold sweat washes over him as he makes eye contact with his brother. Techno’s staring at him, arms casually crossed as he leans against the doorway. He has no idea how much he’s heard, and with a quick glance at Tubbo, the boy wasn’t aware of his arrival either. Tommy tenses in his seat, posture straightening.

“W-What are you talking about?” He asks, his voice soft and panicked. Techno’s expression falls flat, an eyebrow raised. Okay, yeah, he definitely heard enough-

“Dream was listening to your tapes during English today,” Techno answers, and he walks over to the counter, sitting down on his other side. He sets his arms on the table, elbows propped and hands clasped loosely together as his gaze evens on Tommy. “I’m gonna assume that’s what your conversation during lunch was about, right?” He asks, and his tone lowers to match the more private cadence Tommy had been using earlier. It puts him at a little more ease, and he nods, confirming his brother’s suspicions. If there’s anyone in the house who would understand his predicament, it’s Techno.

”Yeah, it was.” Tommy answers, his volume on level with his brothers. He swallows the bit of biscuit in his mouth, then takes a sip of Diet Coke to clear his throat. When he sets the can down, he tilts his head at his brother, confused. “You said he was listening to them during your English class?” 

“I highly doubt anyone else in this school owns a cassette player and multiple different tapes,” Techno answers, and after a second, adds, “Plus, I could hear Wilbur’s voice from where I was sitting.”

A mix of dread and embarrassment washes over Tommy immediately, and he groans, setting his head in his hands. That tape is so personal, and now, the guy that is literally _blackmailing_ him had heard every single muffled word. He’d been upset when Tubbo first heard the tape, but now, he wasn’t even sure what to feel. The hands on his face reach up, head sliding lower until his fingers curl in his hair and his forehead rests in his palms. He tugs sharply, relentlessly, until the dull pinpricks of pain become just a little too much. He felt almost sick, the cold sweat making his hands uncomfortably damp. That tape was _personal,_ and Tommy wasn’t sure whether he wanted to crawl away and die or claw Dream’s eyes out. 

“How’d he even get ahold of them?” Techno asks, and the frustration that courses through him has him groaning again, this time a little louder.

”I got them confiscated like two weeks ago,” He mutters, venom lacing each word. None of this would have happened if the teacher hadn’t been so awful, or if those kids hadn’t picked him as their target. The entire situation is shitty, and each idea of what he could have done differently twists a knot in his stomach. “Tubbo and I snuck into the classroom yesterday, and Dream was the one who unlocked the drawer and found them.” He explains. Techno hums, and there’s a small silence that hangs between them. Tommy’s grateful for it; it gives him a moment to process all the thoughts and emotions. He sighs, slumping over the counter as the tension bleeds out, the hopelessness of the situation sinking in.

It’s been more overwhelming than he would care to admit. The exhaustion, the altered eating habits, and the general stress of having to deal with this. Not to mention the coffee addiction he’s sure he’s developed- he doesn’t even _like_ coffee, really, it’s just one of the things that could keep him awake. All of it aches inside of him. Each sensation leaves him with the simple desire to have his tapes back. Tommy’s not sure it’s so simple anymore.

”So,” Techno says after a moment, voice soft against the harshness of Tommy’s thinking. “What are you going to do about it?” The question pulls him back from his previous thoughts, nudging him ever so slightly left. He thinks on the question for a moment, sitting up just a little straighter in the stool. Different ideas cross his mind, the same ones that had before, with some of them seeming more possible than they had before. The realization that some ideas could actually work has him furrowing his brows in concentration, hand resting against his jaw as he thinks. 

“If Dream keeps bringing them in and leaving them in his locker everyday, I might try learning the locker combination,” He says, tone lighter than it has been for the rest of the conversation. It’s more thoughtful, not yet shooting down the possibility. “But there’s the chance that leaving them in the locker was only for our meeting, and he might just be carrying them on him anywhere else. If I want to get them back that way, I’ll have to sneak them out of his backpack and make sure he doesn’t notice me.”

”Or, have someone else do it.” Techno offers, and Tommy hardly even thinks before he nods. The weight of his brother’s words only settles in a second after, and his eyebrows raise with the realization, head turning to face his brother head on. 

“Really? You’d do that for me?”

Techno shakes his head, and Tommy’s stomach sinks. His brother quickly amends himself. “There’s no way for me to do that subtly, Tommy. But, I could bring Tubbo with me, and he could try.” He explains. His words bring a lighter feeling of hope to his chest, eyes widening slightly as he looks between Techno and Tubbo. The boy has been hanging on to the conversation, listening to every word, and when Tommy looks at him for input, he grins widely. 

“Yeah! That way I have more time to look, and he won’t suspect a thing. Does he know that you two are related?” Tubbo asks, excited and enthusiastic for the idea. Techno smirks.

”Not a clue. I told him I got his Discord by asking around. Never told him who I got it from.” He answers, and despite the previous overwhelming sensations, Tommy grins mischievously. This plan could actually work, and if Dream asked him about it afterwards, Tommy could say he swiped them while they passed by the halls. It was a good excuse, and one the boy would certainly believe. The hope swells in his chest and it turns his grin into something maniacal. He thinks it over a few times, and when he decides it’s a good idea, he sets his gaze back on his brother. He’s met with an amused expression, fondness tracing his brother’s features. “Yeah, I’m basically the best older brother ever.” Techno muses, smug, and Tommy snorts and pushes on his arm.

”Oh shut up,” He laughs, and Techno grins wickedly at the reply, laughing along with him. It’s nice, causing a swell of something nice and elated in his chest, almost too much to handle. It makes him grin so wide that the corners of his eyes crease, laughs and giggles escaping him. It takes him a second to get ahold of it, leaning against the countertop for support as he sucks in unsteady breaths. “But seriously, thank you.” He adds, voice soft, and kind. The fondness in Techno’s expression overtakes the smug amusement for a second, only for Techno to roll his eyes and push on the side of Tommy’s head.

”Gross, but you’re welcome.”

Tommy grins. “Let’s try and keep this between us three, alright? I really don’t want Phil to find out.” He requests, and he’s met with two nods of agreement, one from his older brother and one from Tubbo. The three of them part after that, heading off to do their own thing. Apparently, Techno’s doing _‘research’,_ which Tommy is pretty sure just means he’s cyberstalking Dream. Meanwhile, Tommy and Tubbo head back up to Tommy’s room. The two of them decide to play a few video games so that they can take their mind off the tapes for a bit. They can’t exactly put their plan into motion until Monday anyhow, so they might as well spend the weekend relaxing. 

When dinner comes, neither Tommy or Tubbo bring Dream up. Techno does, and he explains how he managed to get the guy’s discord by asking a fellow classmate, and how he’s been analyzing the guy ever since. Phil grimaces as Techno talks, and once he finishes, he politely begs him not to get too obsessed with this rivalry. Techno smiles easily and replies that if he does his job right, it shouldn’t be much of a rivalry at all. Phil sighs, defeated, and dinner resumes without another mention of the kid. Tommy does the dishes that night, and once he’s done, he plays some video games to take his mind off the missing tapes.

It serves its part, both he and Tubbo laughing and idly chatting into the early hours of the morning, until sleep claws at Tommy and urges him to get some rest. He sleeps until the midday, and after a healthy helping of cereal, he starts working on a physical copy of their plan. He writes it out on a piece of notebook paper, ending up with a nicely detailed flow chart. The first thing they’ll need to do is have Tubbo go with Techno for the day, and from there, those two will wait until Techno’s English class to search through Dream’s backpack as subtly as possible. Meanwhile, if they managed to get their hands on the combination to Dream’s locker, Tommy could try checking there. Once Tommy’s done detailing the plan, he walks up to Techno’s door, knocking and waiting to be allowed in.

Techno answers the door a few moments later, and before he can ask what Tommy needs, he holds up the sheet of paper. “I wrote out the plan so far. Would you like to have a look at it?” He asks, and Techno quirks a brow at him before nodding. He hands him the paper, and Techno goes to get his glasses, setting them on his face while he looks over what Tommy has written. There’s a small silence between them, and Tommy asks, “So, have you learned anything new about him yet?” He asks, keeping his voice down. He’s met with a hum, and then, Techno looks back up at him.

”This looks pretty good so far. We’ll see if it works on Monday.” He says, handing Tommy back the piece of paper. Then, he adds, “As for what I’ve learned about him, apparently his football practice starts after school at three fifteen, and he usually hangs out in the library until then. The student council meetings happen once a week, and this time, it’s a Wednesday. Those usually end at three thirty, and because he’s on the student council, he’s excused for showing up to practice late.” He explains, and Tommy stares at him wide eyed as he talks. Techno stares at him for a moment after he speaks, expression tightening, mouth falling into a straight line. “What.”

”Nothing, nothing- it’s just, well,” Tommy starts, voice squeakier than usual as he starts rambling. “Well, that’s a lot more than I expected, really. How did you even learn all that?” It’s impressive, and a little bit frightening. Dear god, it’s only been what? A day and a half? And Techno’s already got that much information on this guy.

”I asked him if he wanted to play some video games with me after school, and he started giving me his schedule so we could find a time.” He says, voice even but not nearly as defensive as it was before. He purses his lips, not quite a grin, but definitely showing a bit of self pride. “Do you want a sticky note copy?”

“Yeah, actually, why not? It could be helpful.” Tommy answers, and he watches Techno walk back to his laptop, plucking a sticky note off his desk. There’s two almost identical looking green ones there, one of which he hands to him. “Thanks, Blade.” He says, looking over the neat penmanship with a grin. Techno shrugs, though a faint smile traces his lips as he sends Tommy on his way. Tommy can’t help but stand just outside his brother’s door for a second, looking over the sticky note with a sort of unshakeable awe. He definitely has to admire his dedication, no matter how weirdly scary it was.

The next day goes by pretty similarly, with Tommy reviewing his plans for action. He’s lucky Wil’s been working on a new song- the guitar chords and muffled lyrics make sleeping much easier. Once he gets his cassette back, he plans on sitting outside Wil’s door again, ready to record the newest addition to the tape. The weather has been steadily getting colder over the weeks, but now it’s really hitting, leaving Tommy a bit colder than he would be otherwise. Weekend adventures out in the woods switch to movie days cuddled up against one of his family members, tucked underneath a blanket as they alternate between selected films or shows. 

Tommy wakes up earlier than he needs to on Monday morning, energetic and excited for the day ahead. He reviews his notes on Dream, tucking the piece of notebook paper into one of his binders. Tubbo wakes up shortly after, and when Tommy’s alarm rings, the duo make their way downstairs. When they head downstairs, they see Phil over by the coffee machine. The man’s eyebrows raise when he sees them approach. “Up already? Usually Techno’s down here first.” Phil asks, and Tommy nods, finding his coffee mug and pouring himself a cup. 

“Yeah, I have some work to finish up.” Tommy answers, and Phil only gives him a hum. He winces as he watches Tommy add an unreasonable amount of sugar to his coffee, along with enough creamer to make it look more like milk than coffee. Not a word is said, though, and the two of them find seats at the counter, drinking their coffee together. It feels rather grown up, Tommy thinks, and he can’t help the added sort of happiness that seeps through him at the thought. Soon enough, Techno comes down as well, flashing Tommy a look before his gaze settles on Philza. 

“Mornin’ Phil, Tommy.” He greets, voice still sluggish with sleep. Tommy beams at him, raising his half finished mug in a greeting. Techno has his coffee black, pouring the rest of the pot into a mug before taking it and sitting on Phil’s other side. Phil asks if they have any tests before the long weekend, the each of them giving their respective answers. They do small talk until Phil finishes his mug, setting it in the sink and heading towards the living room. It means he’s just out of earshot as long as they keep their voices down, and Tommy doesn’t hesitate to start reaching for his backpack. 

“You have your copy of the plans, right?” He asks, voice a hushed whisper. Techno nods an affirmative. “Okay, okay good, now,” He sits up, handing his brother the stuffed bee. It feels strange parting with it after carrying it with him, but he assures himself that it’s only for one day. And after that, Tubbo will be back with him, and they won’t ever have to deal with this again. “You take this, right, and make sure he doesn’t see it. Make sure it doesn’t get taken, either, because if it does, then that means Tubbo gets taken too.” 

“I’ll make sure it never leaves my backpack.” Techno assures, taking the stuffed animal and opening a separate pouch to his backpack. He sets the bee in there kindly, closing the zipper around the stuffed animal. The backpack protrudes with the addition, but it’s fine- nothing too horribly awkward or noticeable. The two of them finish their coffee in relative silence, and when it’s time to go to school, neither Wilbur nor Phil make a comment on the weird lump in Techno’s bag. Tubbo turns himself invisible before they go, and the four of them walk towards the school building. 

With the cold weather having finally settled in, it makes it much easier to decide what clothes to wear. Wil’s pretty much set with his yellow cardigan and maroon beanie, while Tommy and Techno have both donned jackets. Tommy adds a red scarf to the mix since he’s only got a t-shirt underneath the jacket, and it makes all of them just a little bit warmer as they wait outside the entrance to the school. Tommy nearly jumps out of his skin when his phone vibrates in his pocket, and when he checks it, he sees a notification from Dream.

_DreamWasTaken: how are you doing?_

He isn’t too sure how to react to the friendly tone. He doesn’t want the guy to think he’s forgiven- if anything, Tommy is more than excited to enact his revenge -but he couldn’t just leave him on read either. So, with a quick examination of his previous messages, he types back.

_TommyInnit: Fuck off_

That seems to do the trick. Just for good measure, Tommy adds another litany of insults, and then opts to ignore any messages that would come after that. As he sits and waits for the bell to ring, an anxious knot begins forming in his chest, tightening ever so slightly. That feeling only worsens once the bell rings, students crowding in through the front door, eager to enter the heated building. As per usual, Tommy, Techno, and Tubbo hang back while Wil makes his way in, and when the crowd has cleared by a significant margin, Tommy faces the other two. “Good luck you two.” He says, and he gives his goodbyes, saluting them as he heads off to his first period class.

The day goes by much slower than Tommy would have thought, each passing minute making that anxious knot in his chest worse. The classes seem so much more boring when he doesn’t have Tubbo whispering gossip in his ear, and everything drags on at an unbearable pace. He can hardly focus on his class work, mind much more focused on the idea of how things are going with Techno. He hasn’t even had his English class yet, but there’s always the chance something could have gone wrong earlier. He assures himself that if something were to go wrong, or if the stuffed animal was stolen, his brother would surely text him. Their mission of getting the tapes back would be put on pause, and switched out for getting Tubbo back. 

Lunch isn’t exactly pleasant, now that he has nobody to talk to and no tapes to listen to. He half contemplates meeting Techno up by the library, just to double check that everything’s going well, but by the time he decides to do so, the bell rings before he’s even halfway there. He sighs, turning around and heading off to his third period before he can be swept up in the sea of students trying to reach their next class. 

Tommy cringes as he walks into his third period, palms breaking out in a cold sweat. It hadn’t really crossed his mind until now, but he would have to endure his third period class without Tubbo’s spectral assistance. Which, yeah, he’d been doing for long enough before Tubbo was able to come to school with him, but the ghostly boy’s actions would have no doubt agitated the triangle of annoying peers around him. They did, after all, end up getting detention on a Friday afternoon because of it.

Tommy’s suspicions are confirmed when not even ten minutes into the class, the kid behind him gets up from his seat and stomps down on Tommy’s backpack as he walks by. Tommy’s posture goes rigid with the sound, wincing as he picks his backpack up off the floor and props it against his chair, clearing the walkway between them. He becomes a little relieved, then, that he doesn’t have his tapes or the stuffed bee on him. In turn, however, his hand gently traces over the hand sewn L’manburgh patch- undamaged, sure, but cruelly mistreated. 

His backpack is kicked several more times throughout the class, getting slid across the classroom once during their independent work time. He has to get up from his seat to go grab it, the teacher looking up from her desk in the back of the room as if he’s come to bother her. He sighs, picking up his backpack from where it’s landed on the other side of the room, glancing at her one last time before walking back to his seat. She almost looks pitying, and he has a brief flicker of hope, only for her to ignore his mistreatment for the remainder of the period. There’s no way she isn’t aware of what’s going on, and Tommy grits his teeth as he gets his work done, just barely stopping himself from yelling at her to fucking do something.

Tapes or no tapes, he decides that he’ll probably tell Phil or one of the administrators about her willful ignorance. 

Third period is unarguably the worst part of his day, and the rest of the day runs quicker by comparison. It does, however, leave him exhausted and with an ungodly headache by the end of it. The growing tension is only made worse as he waits for his brothers to join him at the front of the school. Uncharacteristically, Wil is the first one to meet him, all smiley as he greets both him and the empty space next to him. Because _shit,_ right, he has no clue that Tubbo’s been off with Techno today. Tommy laughs awkwardly, and when Wil asks what’s wrong, Tommy summarizes it by saying he’s had a bit of a rough day and that he’s got a god awful headache because of it. Wilbur gives him a pitying look, and doesn’t say much more on the matter, leaving them to awkwardly wait for Techno and Tubbo to arrive. 

The two arrive a few minutes after Wil had, and Tommy gives both of them a tired smile. Unfortunately, due to Wilbur’s presence, the three can’t discuss the results of their plan. Out of the three brothers, Wil was definitely the most moral. If they brought up Tommy’s predicament, and the plans they had to get the tapes back, odds were he would enthusiastically recommend telling Phil, and Tommy already knew how that conversation would go. It was off the table completely, so the three of them walk in relative silence, the gentle whisper of a breeze accompanied by faint birdsong to fill the void. 

When they reach their home, Phil greets them. Wil heads to the kitchen to grab a snack, allowing the others a perfect opportunity to retreat into Tommy’s room. They do so, making their way up the stairs as quickly and as subtly as possible. Techno does the honor of clicking the lock to Tommy’s door, the blonde anxiously looking between the two others. “So? How did the plan go? Did you get them?” He asks, words resulting in a cold, light feeling in his upper chest. It sinks to his lower stomach the second he sees Techno shake his head, and suddenly he isn’t sure if he wants to curl up and cry or break a chair into an uncountable number of pieces. 

“He didn’t have them in his backpack. I checked everywhere, I really did,” Tubbo says, apologetic and nearly just as sad as Tommy felt. His expression was pulled into a pained frown, eyes wide and brows slightly creased. “But he didn’t have them on him.”

“I asked him about it, and he said that they were too valuable to keep taking to school.” Techno provides, and his tone is a soothing contrast to Tubbo’s mournful apology. It does bring his mood up a little bit, despite it all. Information is the most useful thing they have right now, and at this rate, he’ll take anything he can get. Even if it means this whole process just got a hell of a lot more difficult. He nods, filing away the information as he sits on his bed, elbows propping up on his knees as he laces his fingers together. Techno watches him adjust, waiting for him to finish before he asks, “So, do we have a plan B?”

There’s a silence in the room for a moment as Tommy thinks. He sits there, still for a few seconds before he reaches for his backpack, rifling through it before pulling out the piece of paper. He rubs his jaw as he looks over the scribbled notes of their original plan. He rules out anything that involves the tapes being located at the school, then glances over the rest of the information, eyes eventually landing on the green sticky note. His gaze focuses on it, brows furrowing as he reads and rereads the information listed on it. Once he’s done, he rubs his hands over his face and looks back up to Techno.

”You know how to drive, right?”

Techno hums almost thoughtfully. “Yeah?”

”I think I might need you to pick me up on Wednesday.” Tommy says, voice a little more mumbly. He needs more information for this plan to work, and it’s going to be a lot more difficult than Tubbo rooting through his backpack, but it’s the only plan he has now. He grabs a new sheet of paper and transfers the sticky note over to that one, jotting down his thoughts as he speaks them aloud. “Wednesday after school, between three fifteen and three thirty, there’s a gap where nobody should be in the locker room. If Tubbo and I can sneak in and find his locker, we can try to steal some of his equipment. From there, he’d have two days before the next game to return my tapes.”

He’d probably have to wait about five minutes or so to make sure everyone had completely cleared out from the locker room, and then there was the issue of a possible combination lock. He’d have ten minutes to get in there, find which locker was Dream’s, and then find something of value to take and run off with before Dream got back. Techno picking him up would be easier than running home, and if someone saw him, it would make for a quick getaway. He writes as such on the paper, leaving an area open for added information, such as the type of combination lock as well as possible combinations. Then, once he's satisfied, he passes the paper off to Techno. "How does this look?"

Techno looks over what Tommy has written down, then hums. "You know, the athletics lockers might not even have locks on them. It could be worth checking out tomorrow, so that you don't have to deal with it on Wednesday." He advises, and Tommy nods, taking the paper back and jotting that down. Techno keeps talking as he does, adding, "If Tubbo phases through the wall and takes a look, he can probably see which locker Dream uses too."

"Wait a minute, why am I the one who has to go in there?" The boy asks suddenly, brows furrowed and a slight scowl on his face. Techno's gaze evens on him.

"Because you're the only one who can turn invisible and phase through walls? We don't exactly have the latest spying technology, Tubbo." Techno answers, and Tubbo seems to think on it for a moment before giving a flustered, indignant sort of huff. 

"Fine. Ugh, that's going to be so awful." Tommy snorts, unable to help the small bout of laughter that rushes through him. He glances at Tubbo almost apologetically, but the second he catches sight of the death glare the ghost is giving him, he cracks apart, laughing so hard his face turns pink. The brunet groans, shoving on Tommy's shoulder, which only serves in making him laugh louder. "Shut up! It's going to be terrible- God, it's going to smell awful." Tommy's laugh settles shakily on his lips, still not done recovering from the laughing fit. He doesn't get another opportunity as Techno speaks.

"How do you know what it smells like?" The question earns another round of laughter, and this time, Techno joins in as well, chuckling as he tries to add more. "No, seriously, hold on- how do you know it smells terrible? Have you _been_ there?"

 _"No!_ Of course not!" Tubbo protests. His voice grows louder with each teasing question and comment, ears turning pink. He looks almost offended by the idea, and Tommy nearly wheezes at the sight. "I mean, I can _assume_ it smells pretty bad. It's just a bunch of sweaty people and body spray."

The conversation dies down from there, and once they've worked out their plans for the next day, Techno leaves and goes to his own room. Tommy opts to take a nap to get rid of the remnants of his headache, letting Tubbo watch a few videos on his computer while he sleeps. He wakes up sluggish and disoriented to Phil calling them down for dinner, and he focuses on getting through the meal instead of telling Phil what happened during class. He can always tell him the next day, anyways. Or, since Tubbo would be with him again, maybe it wouldn't be so bad. 

Tommy doesn’t wake up as early as he had the day before. Instead, he groans when his alarm gets up, trudging his feet as he puts on his clothes. He needs to rush a little more so that he can make it out the door in time, so he forgoes fixing his hair and grabs a granola bar instead of a full breakfast. It leaves him looking disheveled and tired when he joins his brothers at the door, coffee held in a to-go cup, but at least he’s leaving at the same time as everyone else. Tubbo turns invisible, sticking to his side as they arrive at the school. He doesn’t receive a notification that morning, and when the bell rings and the students start flooding into the building, Tubbo stays by his side. His presence sends a wave of relief over Tommy. At least this day won’t be as bad as the previous one. 

While people are still entering the building, Tommy takes the opportunity to find the athletics locker rooms. They’re stationed just outside the gym class ones, and Tommy stands himself by the door, checking his phone nonchalantly. “Alright, Tubbo, I need you to go in and check if there’s any locks. If you can figure out which one is his locker, that would be good too.” Tommy murmurs, making sure his words are barely audible. He has no headphones in, so it’s not like he could pass as someone making a phone call. Tubbo’s stood in front of him, making it much easier to make eye contact with him. The expression on his face does not look pleased.

”Fine. But I’m gonna make it quick.” He says, and Tommy nods, keeping his gaze even as he watches Tubbo phases through the wall out of his peripheral. He lets out a breath, now actually checking his phone while he waits for Tubbo to come back out. A few students walk by every now and then, hardly sparing him a second glance. They start coming in at a higher frequency after a few more minutes, and then Tommy realizes that the busses must have started coming in. He presses his back against the wall to make room for the wave of students that starts making their way in, only growing nervous when a kid with longer, black hair begins to walk towards the athletics locker room. Tubbo should be out by now, shouldn’t he-?

”What are you doing?” The kid asks, and Tommy makes eye contact with the guy. He looks to be somewhere around his grade. Tommy tries his best not to look as nervous as he feels. 

“Waiting for a friend.” He answers, giving the kid a shrug. That answer seems to do, the kid offering him a smile and a nod as he walks into the locker room. Tommy lets out an audible sigh of relief at that, only to nearly scream as Tubbo pops out of the wall, filling the space next to him. Instead, he jumps a foot in the air, eyes wide as he looks at the brunet. He nearly doubles over as he catches his breath, eyes glancing around. He’s lucky nobody noticed his brief panic, or at least, if anyone has they don’t care enough to investigate. He sighs, looking back up and glaring slightly at Tubbo. “What took you so long?” He murmurs, finding a spot to merge with the crowd, doing so when the opportunity comes. It’s difficult leaving space open for Tubbo, but as long as the boy sticks close to his side, it’s manageable.

”Sorry, the lockers were locked,” Tubbo explains, his voice at normal speaking volume so that his words aren’t swept up in the crowd. It concerns Tommy for a second, but then he recalls that when Tubbo’s invisible, nobody else can hear him either. As long as Tommy doesn’t make too big of a deal out of it, he’s fine. “Dream was in there, too. I had to wait for him to stop talking with some guy so that way I could catch the locker combination. I think I’ve got it, though.” He adds, and the information about the locker combination makes Tommy’s brows raise. It’s impressive.

”That’s good. That’s really, really good,” He murmurs, unable to keep the pure awe out of his voice. Tubbo grins at him, somewhere between sheepish and proud, eliciting a warm feeling in Tommy’s chest. “Alright, I need you to remember the combination until I reach my first period, alright? I can write it down on the paper once we get there.” He adds, and Tubbo nods at his side. God, he’s missed having the boy at his side- it really makes the day so much more enjoyable. His smile is infectious.

Tommy walks into his first period smiling. The first thing he does is sit down in the desk and pull out the piece of paper with their information on it, adding the locker combination to the list. Tubbo relays the different numbers to him, giving him a standard six digit combination code. Once that’s done, Tommy murmurs his thanks, and puts the slip of paper back into his backpack. They can’t exactly talk to each other during the classes, but they make do, with Tommy scribbling replies down in the margins on his notes. Apparently, Techno’s classes the previous day were very boring, especially since the other couldn’t hear or see him. He tells Tommy he missed him, and Tommy bites the inside of his cheek to keep himself from smiling in a way that would be entirely too soft for his image. Instead, he jots down a tiny _‘I missed you too’_ in the corner of his paper, erasing it once it’s read.

The rest of the day goes so much better. It isn’t quick or exciting or anything of the sort, but it’s pleasant and quaint and that’s all Tommy can really ask for. When the kids in his third period begin harassing him again, stepping on his laces and trying to trip him, it’s repaid by Tubbo tying their laces together in intricate knots, his hand jerking their pencils every now and then, causing sloppy marks on their pages. The teacher walks by once while it’s happening, scolding the kid next to him for apparently drawing immature imagery on his work, and when Tommy looks out of the corner of his eye, he has to restrain a snort at the massive penis drawn over the page. The kid receives a zero for the assignment and a phone call home, and Tommy has to swallow his laughter before anything else can happen. 

He’s tired when he finishes the day, but not in the same way he was the day before. There’s no headache to plague him, no exhaustion seeping into his system. It’s a lazy sort of feeling, relaxed and calm after a tense few days. He smiles when Wil and Techno greet him out front, humming the chords to the song Wil’s been working on. He does nothing to refute the fond smile the older gives him, and instead continues to hum, taking in the sights around him. The fallen leaves create bald spots in the trees, revealing the intricate network of branches and twigs, spindling off in every which way. 

The evening is much more relaxed than the others, and at night, Tommy’s sure he can hear Wil playing his new song a little bit louder than he was before. It’s bittersweet, and Tommy really longs to have his tapes back, so that way he can sit outside Wil’s room and record this new one. He wonders if Wil would do that for him. If he would play his songs just a little louder so that way Tommy could record him through the door, acting as if he didn’t know his younger brother sat just outside. The acoustic chords lull him to sleep, and he wakes up at just the right time the next day, not as anxious as he was on Monday, but not as sluggish as he was on Tuesday. 

Oddly enough, there’s no anxious energy that plagues him like there was on Monday. Instead, there’s a surge of confidence, even though this is the most risky move yet. He’s prepared now. He’s psyched himself up for this moment, planned everything thoroughly, going so far as to memorize Dream’s locker combination so that he doesn’t have to rely on the slip of paper. When he has his coffee, Techno gives him a look, which Tommy meets with a determined grin. It seems to satisfy his older brother, who ruffles his hair as he walks past. He’s got this- today’s the day he gains some leverage. 

He keeps that mentality throughout the day, not even letting his third period drag him down. He glances at the paper every now end then, and spends nearly the entire lunch period reviewing it. As the day goes on, he does start getting a little more restless, checking the hands on the clock every two or so minutes. But he’s not anxious- not in a way that’ll lock up his muscles and make him sick to his stomach with doubt. It’s a good sort of excitement, and when the final bell rings, Tommy doesn’t hesitate to pull out his phone and text his brothers that he’ll be staying after school for a while. Techno shoots him a thumbs up after a few minutes, and with that done, Tommy gathers his things and heads up to the school library. 

The library is mostly empty when he gets there, and he takes the opportunity to snag a computer before anyone else can get it. He takes one further away from the check out counter, that way nobody can hear him chatting with Tubbo to fill the time. Tommy sets a timer on his phone for three twelve, and then pulls up a games website on the computer. He and Tubbo manage to get through nearly half of Lava Boy and Water Girl, bickering good-naturedly when presented with some of the more complicated puzzles, when the timer goes off. Tommy closes the program and turns off the computer, gathering his things as he shoots Techno a text, asking him to drive to the school and wait outside the front.

Right. He’s got this. 

He sets his phone in his pocket, leaving the cafeteria and heading straight for the athletics locker rooms. The walk there should put his arrival time just after three fifteen, and when he checks his phone, he lets out a small breath when he sees his prediction was accurate. It’s three eighteen when he reaches the door, and he can see a few of the football players dressed and ready for practice. He waits for them to get a little further, then, instructs Tubbo to phase through the door and unlock it. He knows it’s worked when he hears the click of the lock. He takes a quick inhale, then pushes the door open, quickly ducking inside and shutting the door back behind him. 

Tubbo’s right. It _does_ stink in here. The smell of sweat, spray on deodorant and body spray fills the air, thick enough that it makes Tommy want to gag. He doesn’t, though, and instead follows let’s his gaze meet Tubbo’s. The boy is looking at him, eyes wide with a finger to his lips, shaking his head. Tommy cocks his head to the side, brows furrowed, and Tubbo opens his mouth to explain. Instead, he’s cut off by a somewhat familiar voice. “Dream, that you? Did the meeting run a little quicker than usual?”

Tommy freezes in place, frantically looking between the source of the voice and Tubbo. The ghost boy offers him no answer, and instead has a similar response, shrugging and gesturing frantically. Tommy heads the person take a few steps, each one echoing on the tile, and he clears his throat before the person can get to him. “Uh, yeah, it’s- it’s not Dream.” He says, stammering over his words. Tubbo shoots him an incredulous look, and Tommy’s eyebrows shoot up, mouth pulling into a small frown. Look, it’s not like he has any better ideas here.

The guy continues his way out from behind a few of the lockers, and when his gaze lands on Tommy, his eyebrows raise. It’s the same kid who greeted him the previous day, except now he’s wearing a matching team jersey, along with a few different pads. A white headband holds his long dark hair out of his face. And, despite the fact Tommy definitely isn’t supposed to be here, the kid doesn’t look entirely opposed to his presence, which is good. He looks more surprised than anything. “Oh, hey. You need something?” He asks, and Tommy swallows the lump in his throat. Fuck it.

”Yeah, actually. You know which locker’s his?” He asks, trying to play it casual. He ignores the panicked and crazed look Tubbo is giving him from the side, doing everything in his power to keep his eyes on the kid in front of him. His expression definitely becomes a little more confused, but he nods, pointing to one of the lockers on the back wall. “Cool, thanks.” He says, walking towards the locker as if it was his own. He puts a small show out of fidgeting with the lock, trying to make it seem like he doesn’t know the combination. The kid he’s dealing with is either oblivious to what’s actually happening, or strangely fine with it, and either way, Tommy’s gonna make it seem like this was much less thought out than it actually is. He can feel the kid’s gaze stay on him, not once leaving as he watches.

”What are you even _doing?”_ The kid asks after a moment, voice sounding horribly confused by the whole ordeal. It’s understandable- even he isn’t entirely sure how to respond to this situation. So, when the kid asks, Tommy decides to answer him truthfully. If the kid wanted to stop him, surely he would have done it by now. 

“I’m trying to steal his jersey.” He admits, and he can hear Tubbo scream from inside the room. It startles him a little, but he ends up rolling his eyes at the reaction. It appears the boy’s remembered that he can talk to Tommy and nobody else will hear. He stops his fidgeting with the lock, and turns to look at the kid. Even with his explanation, he doesn’t look like he’s gonna stop him. “You know those tapes he was listening to?” He asks, and the kid gives him a nod. “Well, those are _mine._ He stole them from me. So, I’m stealing his jersey and holding it ransom.” He explains, tugging on the lock for emphasis. 

There’s a moment where the kid just stares at him, and Tommy wonders for a second if he’s actually going to get in trouble, here. Instead, the kid begins to grin at him mischievously. “Oh, cool. You need help with the lock?” He asks, walking over, and Tommy nods his head, his grin matching the kid’s. 

“Yeah, that’d be useful.”

The kid hums, walking over and entering the combination with little to no trouble. The lock opens with a small click as the guy pulls down on it, that same lax smile on his face as he opens the locker for him. Tommy grins at the sight of a synch sack and a jersey hung up on the inside hooks, along with a helmet. “Take the jersey, but leave the safety equipment. Don’t want him to get injured during practice.” The guy says, and while Tommy would beg to differ, he gives the guy a nod and snatches the jersey off the back hook. He immediately shifts, stuffing it into his backpack. “My name’s Sapnap, by the way. You’re that Tommy kid, right?” 

Tommy gives him a look when he says his name, but nods for the rest of the statement. This whole interaction has been strange; he’s not about to start questioning people’s names. “Yeah. Hey, you’re not going to tell him about this, are you?” He asks, zipping his backpack shut and checking his phone. He only has a few minutes before Dream should be coming up to change. Sapnap grins at him, wicked and mischievous. 

“Nah, not unless he asks about it. Can’t wait to see his reaction when he figures out he got scammed by a freshman.” He muses, and Tommy grins companionably. He supposed that’s fine- hell, Dream was going to figure out one way or another. At least now he knows he won’t go directly to the administration. “You might want to get out of here, though, before he comes back from his student council meeting.” He advises, and Tommy nods, shifting the weight of his backpack on his shoulders. 

“Right. I’ll head out now.” Tommy says, and he can’t help but grin as he waved at Sapnap. He practically bolts once he’s left the locker room, racing through the halls and to the front of the school. He makes it out the doors and spots Phil’s car pulled into the pick up lane. The second his gaze lands on it, he’s met with a loud honk, huffing and rolling his eyes as he darts over to the passenger door, hopping in and putting his seat belt on. They stay there for a second, and Tommy can’t help but laugh when he hears Tubbo talk.

”I can’t believe that worked!” 

He laughs, loud and excited as Techno starts driving them away from the school. He can see Tubbo sitting in the back seat, not as transparent as he was before. He has a shocked smile on his face, wide and toothy, and Tommy can’t help but mirror the expression. “I know, I know-! I thought we were done for, but we got it. Holy shit.” Tommy replies, words leaving him quickly. He looks between Tubbo and Techno, grin widening as he sees the fond and amused grin tracing his brother’s lips. “Techno, you wouldn’t believe it-“ He starts, beginning to ramble as he explains what just occurred. There’s a few times where shocked laughter bubbles up out of his chest, and the sound of it makes Tommy grin ear to ear.

It’s hard not to boast about it when they arrive home, and Tommy quickly races up to his room so he can let the energy loose. He’s ecstatic, really, and he excitedly pulls the jersey out from his bag and spreads it out across his bed. He smiles smugly, pulling his phone out from his pocket and snapping a picture of the stolen jersey, making sure to include his hand flipping it off in the corner of the picture. He doesn’t get a message from Dream until later that night, after dinner’s been had and Tommy’s calmed down a bit. However, the moment his phone buzzes, it doesn’t stop, messages coming in quick succession.

_DreamWasTaken: WHAT_

_DreamWasTaken: TOMMY_

_DreamWasTaken: ARE YOU KIDDING ME_

_DreamWasTaken: HOW DID YOU EVEN DO THAT_

Tommy smirks, damn near giggling to himself as he sends the picture.

_TommyInnit: Missing something?_

”Is that Dream?” Tubbo asks, staring at Tommy as he watches the messages come in. Tommy chuckles, nodding, and Tubbo looks excited at that. “Sit down, I wanna see what he’s saying.” He requests, and Tommy easily obliges, sitting down on the bed and holding his phone so that Tubbo can see the messages roll in. The two of them giggle at each new message Dream sends, clearly outraged. 

_DreamWasTaken: TOMMY_

_DreamWasTaken: I NEED THAT FOR PRACTICE_

_DreamWasTaken: THE NEXT GAME IS FRIDAY_

_TommyInnit: You should probably give me my tapes sometime before that, then_

He decides to ignore any of Dream’s messages that come after that, burying his phone somewhere in his backpack for the night. There’s a Cheshire grin on his face as he tries to sleep that night, amused and all too proud of himself for his antics. He briefly contemplates telling Phil and Wilbur by the time this is all over, their imagined looks of pride and twisted amusement having him laughing to himself as he drifts off. It’s difficult to sleep that night, and Tommy thinks he wouldn’t have it any other way. 

There’s a skip in his step the next morning. He downs his coffee and has a nice breakfast, doing his hair and letting himself be a little more put together for the next day. He manages to keep his joy just under control, eagerly talking with Wil and Techno as they walk to school. He doesn’t mention the heist he was able to pull, nor the after effects of it, but a few pointed comments cause Techno to grin at him proudly. When they arrive outside the school’s doors, Tommy sits down on one of the benches, pulling out his phone. He’s actually excited for Dream to message him for once, staring down at the screen with a smug grin. It’s almost disappointing when the first bell rings and no message has come through. 

Tommy ignores that, though, and instead heads to his first period. He sits down and brings out his things, opting to leave his phone on and in his pocket. That way, if Dream does send him a message, he’ll know. The class goes by pretty quickly, and it isn’t until after his second period that his phone buzzes in his pocket. He checks the message, grinning wickedly when he sees the notification from Dream.

_DreamWasTaken: meet me in the library during lunch_

It’s worth skipping the meal for, Tommy thinks. Rubbing his victory in Dream’s face is _well_ worth it. He’s smiling ear to ear as he bypasses the cafeteria entirely, instead walking into the school library. It takes not even a quick glance around for him to spot Dream, and when he does, he has to bite his tongue to keep himself from doubling over with laughter. Dream looks a bit livid, and what makes it even funnier is that he’s talking with Techno. His brother spares him only a quick glance before looking back to the guy, looking mildly amused by whatever he’s rambling about. Tommy grins as he watches, and he can hear Tubbo giggly from his side as he stares as well. The guy has none of that smug superiority he’d had before, and it’s funny seeing Mr. Perfect so up in arms because of him.

The rambling goes on for quite a while, and Tommy snorts as he picks up bits and pieces of it. He settles for sitting in the same chair he had nearly a week prior, arms folded out on the table as he watches. He pulls a chair out slightly so that Tubbo can sit next to him as well, giving the two of them front row seats to the show. Tommy almost wants to time the kid to see how long he could go on, but just as he considers actually going through with the idea, Techno says something that causes the guy to whip his head around, gaze landing on Tommy. He can’t help the fact he bursts into laughter, covering his mouth and keeling over, trying not to cause too much of a scene. He’s gasping for breath once Dream walks over, harshly pulling out the chair across from him and sitting down.

”You’re so annoying,” He scoffs, and Tommy rolls his eyes as he sits himself a little more upright, lax smile on his face as he meets his gaze. He looks flustered and annoyed by the situation, and it sends a surge of confidence through Tommy. Dream’s brows furrow. “Where is it?”

Tommy finally decides to take this just a little more seriously, expression calming and falling even. “Well, where’s my tapes?” He asks in return, and Dream sits back a little bit. There’s a pause between them, one that Tommy opts to break. “Tomorrow, after school, I want you to bring me my tapes. All of them, and my cassette player too. If you do, I’ll give you back your jersey.” He says. Dream’s not exactly in a position to argue, but it seems he’s going to do it anyways.

”Tommy, I need my jersey back before practice, otherwise I’ll get in trouble with the coach. Friday’s the last game of the season.” He explains, voice teetering on dangerous. The only affect it has on Tommy is making him grateful for choosing Wednesday to steal the jersey. The jersey wouldn’t have had any worth otherwise. Maybe sentimental value, but it wouldn’t be a necessity.

“Then you should bring me my tapes before your practice, huh?” Tommy replies, voice even. Dream’s expression is one of disbelief and frustration, and it satisfies Tommy beyond belief. He almost contemplates not even giving Dream back his jersey, just to watch him suffer, but he thinks if he did that the kid would definitely beat him up. He’s already pushing his luck here, but beating him up wouldn’t get his jersey back, so he’s safe for now. “I’m not going to do any trade during school. If you want your jersey back before the game, you’re gonna give me my tapes at three ten by the gym, and I’ll trade it to you.”

Dream’s eyes narrow at him, and Tommy can only imagine what the guy’s thinking. He’s almost certain the feeling is mutual. “If you don’t have my tapes when I show up, I’ll just soak your jersey in the water fountains.” He adds, just in case. The threat makes his jaw clench, and Tommy knows he’s got him beat. His hand, which had been holding the back of his chair with a grip tight enough to break it, relaxes.

”Fine. I’ll meet you at three ten.”

Tommy grins almost wickedly. The rest of the day goes by in a breeze, and when they get back home and Wil heads up to his room, Tommy explains their conversation to Techno. His brother nods as he listens to the explanation, and Tubbo laughs at his side when Tommy enthusiastically mentions different parts. The three of them come up with one final plan, and by the time they’re done, the notes take up a whole piece of notebook paper. They need this to go absolutely perfect, otherwise they might not have another opportunity to get the tapes back. 

The next morning, Tommy doesn’t bring the jersey with him. If he brings it, there’s a chance it would be stolen, and then all his leverage would be gone. That’s a risk he isn’t willing to take, and so, the mesh fabric stays laid out on his bed. The same feeling he’d had on Wednesday sticks with him, confidence and eager excitement coursing through him as he begins his day. He checks and double checks his notes, making sure that everything goes exactly according to plan. And, if it doesn’t, he makes sure he’s familiar with the back up plans. 

When third period ends, not an issue to be had, Tommy watches his teacher grab her keys and unlock one of the drawers. He gets a cold chill as he watches, glancing back every now and then to see what she’s doing. She searches through the drawer, moving away different items, and as time passes, she seems to get more and more concerned. Tommy swallows, and quickly gets back to his work, partly hoping she doesn’t bring it up. While it would be immensely satisfying to have her come apologizing to him for losing something so dear to him, he doesn’t exactly have a lie set up to answer her. He’s both happy and annoyed that when class ends, the only thing he gets from her is a slightly nervous smile.

He’ll make her feel bad about it on Monday.

When the final bell rings, his nerves are twisting up in his chest. The tension has been building ever since this morning, and he forces himself to take deep breaths as he meets his brothers out by the front of the school. He’s planned this out, after all. There’s no way this can go wrong. The four of them walk back to the house, and Tommy makes his way up to his room, hoping to focus on something else until it’s time for Techno to drive him back to the school. However, when he walks in, his eyes grow wide and a pit drops in his stomach. The jersey’s gone.

”Phil!” Tommy shouts, maybe just a little panicked.

It takes a second, but he hears the man in question reply, sounding rather concerned. “Yeah, Tommy?”

”Did you put a jersey in the wash?” He asks, and there’s another small pause before he gets his answer. It’s long enough to make his stomach turn, his mind running haywire.

”What-? Oh, yeah! It smelled terrible, so I set it in. Should be done any second now!” The man replies, and Tommy lets out an audible sigh of relief, flopping face first onto his bed as he does. The tension bleeds out of him quickly, and he catches his breath for a second, calming down his heart rate. That had been fucking terrifying.

”Thanks Dad!” He shouts after a second, relieved. He lays there for a bit, letting all the anxiety bleed out of him until his body lays heavy on the bed. He’s still not done, but that certainly has to have been the most scary thing to happen that day. It should be the only hiccup, and it was quickly resolved. Everything else should run smoothly.

Just in case, he runs over the notes a few more times, and at three o’clock, he grabs his backpack. He empties out all his school supplies, putting them in a neat pile by his door. He keeps the stuffed animal in there, wanting Tubbo to come along for the ride. The boy can do more than Tommy could ever dream of, and if things go south, a lot of their backup plan relies on his spectral assistance. Tommy gets himself ready, pulling the jersey out from the drier and stuffing it into his backpack. He knocks on Techno’s door, and the boy greets him soon after, the two of them heading down the stairs. “Dad! Techno and I are going to head out for a little. Can we take the car?” Tommy asks, shouting so that Phil can hear him from wherever he is. A voice replies from the kitchen.

”Yeah, go ahead. Be back before dinner, and keep your phones on you.”

Tommy shouts his reply, and the three of them quickly hop in the car, driving towards the school. Techno doesn’t park, and instead, he sits in the pick up lane, leaving the car running. It’s three seven when they arrive, and Tommy sits in the car for two more minutes. “You got this?” Techno asks, quirking a brow at him, and Tommy sucks in a breath and nods. They’ve planned this out. He’s got this.

He leaves the car at three nine, and makes it to the gym by three twelve, where Dream is waiting for him. The boy is dressed in most of his padding, his helmet resting on one of the water fountains. In his hand, he has a plastic bag. “Do you have my jersey?” He asks, getting straight to the point as Tommy grows near. Tommy glances around once or twice, just to make sure nobody else is nearby. When he doesn’t catch sight of anyone else, he nods. 

“Yeah. And you have my tapes?” He asks, and Dream lifts the hand that holds the bag. Tommy’s eyes latch on to it, and he stares, doubtful. He glances quickly at Tubbo, nodding his head ever so slightly to the side, then quickly fixes his gaze back onto Dream. “How do I know those are really mine?” He asks. It’s stalling, buying time for Tubbo to walk over and double check for him. It also gives the ghost more room to work with- time to tie Dream’s laces together, just in case he tries running after him. 

Dream’s brows furrow, and he reaches into the bag and pulls out the cassette player, along with one of the tapes. He pops it into the machine and presses the play button, and Tommy’s eyes widen slightly as he hears Wilbur’s muffled singing echoing through the machine. In that moment, he wants nothing more than to tackle Dream to the ground and punch him in his stupid face, but he restrains himself. It doesn’t stop the murderous intent from appearing on his face. Dream doesn’t pay it any mind, pausing the song and putting the machine back in the bag. 

“And my jersey?” He asks curtly, and Tommy stiffly removes his backpack, reaching in and pulling out Dream’s jersey. He unfolds it and holds it up, not missing the way Dream’s eyes follow the material. The two hold eye contact for a moment, and then, Tommy takes a few steps closer. 

“Give me my tapes first.” Tommy says, and when Dream’s eyes narrow at him, he adds, “You’re faster and stronger than me. If I run off with your stupid jersey, you’ll just catch up with me and take it.” 

That explanation seems to satisfy him, and he nods, walking the rest of the distance over to Tommy. His shoes are untied, but he doesn’t seem to notice. Either that, or it’s far too tense of a moment to stop and tie them back up. Regardless, he makes the rest of the distance, keeping arm’s length away as he hands over the bag. Tommy takes it, and spends a second looking through the bag, making sure all his tapes are there, and making sure they’re all his. All of them appear to be there, and each one is labeled with his familiar scrawl. He hums and holds out Dream’s jersey. “Pleasure doing business with you. Let’s never fucking do this again.”

Dream hums, not looking nearly as mad as he had mere moments ago. Tommy doesn’t question it, and instead, he hands over the jersey. He stands there as Dream inspects it, only backing away once he sees Tubbo’s tied his laces together. He doesn’t wait for Dream to look up, and immediately turns and sprints towards the door. There’s a second where it’s just him running, and then, he hears one step before a loud clattering noise echoes through the room. One look over his shoulder tells him Dream tried running after him, only to trip over his laces. When he sees Tommy gaining further distance, he shouts, _“Sapnap!_ He’s getting away!”

Tommy’s eyes widen as he turns his head back in front of him, only to see the kid in mention blocking the front door. He skids to a halt, eyes wide and panicked as he makes eye contact, meeting a devilish grin. He glances around and quickly darts the other way, running more towards the main office. This seems to catch Sapnap off guard, and the guy quickly has to run to catch up with him as he bolts down the west wing. Tommy all but vaults down the west stairwell, jumping down the stairs until he reaches the bottom door. His breath rings in his ears, hand clutching the bag tightly, making sure none of his tapes spill out. He can hear the footsteps coming after him, beginning to gain on him, and the adrenaline pushes him forwards. His legs ache each time his feet touch the ground, but soon enough he makes it to the exit at the bottom of the stairs. 

He bolts out of it, occasionally sparing a glance behind him as he goes. Sapnap is so close, it’s frightening, and when Tommy looks ahead, he sees Dream coming out of the main entrance, head whipping around until it lands on Tommy. He yelps, legs unsteady as he looks behind him and at Dream, watching as both boys begin to catch up to him. Dream’s smiling maniacally as he bolts closer, shouting, “Oh Tommy-!”

Tommy’s sure he’s as good as dead. At least, he is until he sees Phil’s car bypass Dream entirely, quickly stopping just in front of Tommy. Techno rolls down the window and shouts, “Get in loser!”, and Tommy nearly trips over himself as he flings himself into the passenger seat. Tubbo quickly follows, literally leaping through the back seat door. 

Tommy fumbles to get his seatbelt on, glancing between it and Dream, who is looking more and more astonished as he gets closer. “Techno, fucking drive!” He shouts, and Techno nods, sticking his hand out his window and flipping them off as he presses on the gas, driving them out from the parking lot. He can hear Dream’s shout of disbelief as they drive off, and then after that, all he can hear is both him and Tubbo panting as they relax into the seating. Once he’s regained his breath, and his heart isn’t pounding quite so painfully against his chest, he starts laughing, crazed and exhausted and so fucking happy. It almost sounds insane, but after a second, Tubbo joins in too, and Tommy can’t help the way he raises both of his hands and shouts. “Oh my god- holy shit- we- fuck _yes!”_

Techno smiles at him from the driver’s seat, his own laughter joining the mix, and Tommy swears he’s the happiest he’s been in _months._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did not fucking expect this to become as long as it did. What the fuck. Also, if the next chapter doesn’t come out before it- merry Christmas guys!! I hope you all have a wonderful time despite this absolutely shit year.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YOOOO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG! It was going really well, and then writers block absolutely obliterated me, so I had to rewrite what I had.

When they get home, Tommy is near bursting at the seams with happiness. Techno barely has the car in park before Tommy’s jumping out of the passenger seat and racing into the house. Both Phil and Wilbur are sitting on the couch, and they turn their heads the second Tommy bursts into the house. They don’t get any time to question him, though. “Hey Dad, hey Wil!” He shouts, and aside from that, he doesn’t spare them a second glance as he runs up the stairs and into his room. He flops himself on the bed, legs kicking as he sets the tapes down next to himself, grinning ear to ear. “Fucking finally, holy shit. I’ve missed these.” 

“You’re really, really fast.” The words are panted out, and Tommy looks up, meeting Tubbo’s gaze. The boy is slightly keeled over, but he’s grinning, albeit there’s a small waver from being yanked around like a dog on a leash. He comes and sits next to Tommy on the bed, and the second he comes closer, Tommy reaches out to hug him- only for his arms to awkwardly phase through, a cold tingly sensation left after. The message is received though; Tubbo let’s out a nice laugh and Tommy joins in soon after. Joy runs through his veins like a drug, until it seeps into every crevice of his body. 

“What tape do you want to listen to? I reckon we listen to all of them now that we have the chance.” He says after a second, and he takes the bag of tapes, dumping them out across his bed and splaying them out. It’s unreal, seeing them all. He’s missed them so, so much. Tubbo looks over the different titles and selects one of the tapes, and Tommy’s quick to take it and pop it into the player. It’s a mix of mostly Khai Dreams songs and a few others, and the grin on his face almost hurts with how long it stays. Tommy lays back on his back, arms against his chest as he listens to the tape, and Tubbo does the same just next to him. The two stay like that for hours and hours, listening to the different tapes and simply hanging out together. Occasionally, they make comments on their heist, laughing to themselves about it. Warmth wraps around them lovingly, bringing their wonderful day to a close.

When Phil calls them all down for dinner, Tommy pauses the tapes and heads down. They get their food, and Tommy almost immediately breaks out into telling the story. He starts it from when he got the tapes taken away, gesturing animatedly as he describes the events. The mention of them being taken in the first place causes a few raised eyebrows and furious looks, namely from Wilbur and Phil, but there’s hardly any time to react as Tommy rambles through the next series of events. He’s got an audience, Tubbo grinning at him as he talks, Techno looking at him with a fond amusement, and Phil and Wilbur hanging on to his every word. 

When the story ends, his food is a little cold, but that’s fine. He answers a few questions by the end of it, primarily ones from Phil about his teacher, and that conversation ends with Phil saying he’ll email the principal about her behavior. Phil does comment on how he’s disappointed that Tommy went back to stealing, which starts an argument between him and Wilbur, who agrees that the teacher is a right bitch. The argument only ends when Tubbo informs both of them that stealing the tapes back were actually _his_ idea, and the look that appears on their faces sends both him and Tommy into a fit of wheezing laughter. Tommy explains a little more, then, how funny it was that Tubbo tied Dream’s shoelaces together, and the boy beams with pride and amusement.

Tommy does the dishes that night, making him one of the last people to bed. When he goes, he joins Tubbo in his room, and the two lay back and continue listening to the tapes. It’s nice; crickets chirp from outside the window, providing a pleasant ambiance. It kills Tubbo to sleep, the boy curling up on the bed at Tommy’s side. When that tape runs out, the last Bruce Springsteen song coming to an end, Tommy’s hand slowly drifts to the cassette. He reaches around the bed and squints against the darkness, eventually finding the one he’s looking for. 

Just as he pops it in, he hears the muffled sound of guitar chords through his wall. It catches his attention, only for the fact that he hasn’t hit play on the cassette yet. Meaning, the guitar playing currently could only be from Wilbur’s room. He pauses for a second, then looks down at Tubbo, sound asleep on his bed. From there, he takes the cassette player in hand and creeps up to his door, opening it carefully so that it doesn’t creak. The music is definitely a little louder now that he’s outside. He walks to Wil’s door, waiting just a second before sitting down, his back to the wood. The guitar halts it’s strumming for a second, and Tommy thinks he’s caught, but it picks up not long after. In fact, it starts up the new song Wil’s been working on, and the second Tommy realizes that, he hits the record button. 

Wil’s singing joins in, rough versions of lyrics sung loud enough to be heard through the door. It’s comfortably, and Tommy shifts, shutting his eyes as he listens. When the song ends, his thumb presses down again on the record button, and he falls asleep against his brother’s door. It’s peaceful, and he couldn’t care less how comfortable it is. Some time passes, and then, there’s a hand on his shoulder, gently nudging him awake. The hand is almost uncomfortably warm, scalding despite the thicker fabric between the skin. “C’mon Tommy. Can’t have you fallin’ asleep in the hallway now,” A voice murmurs, and after a few more shakes, Tommy groans, blinking awake. There’s a small huff, followed by an exasperated, “Yeah, yeah. You’ll thank me in the morning when you don’t have to worry about back pain.”

Tommy wakes up only enough to stand up and walk himself back to bed. He absolutely refuses to wake up any more than that, and let’s himself stumble to his room with his eyes barely open. Techno guides him to his room, holding up and opening the door for him when he gets there. He carelessly flops into his bed, and Tubbo makes a small noise of discomfort with the landing. The next few things are a bit of a blur. Tommy’s rearranged so that he’s tucked neatly under the blankets at Tubbo’s side. There’s a soft chuckle as he’s handed Henry, holding on to the old stuffed animal as he rests. There’s not much noise after that, except the small hum of his cassette, and then, the muffled sound of Wilbur’s guitar. The door clicks shut, and Tommy has the best sleep he’s ever had.

When he wakes up, his hair is an absolute mess, but he doesn’t bother fixing it. He does, however, go downstairs and fix himself a bowl of cereal. Tubbo’s downstairs watching a TV show, and Tommy wordlessly joins him on the couch so that he can eat. He eats two bowls of cereal, making occasional comments on the plot of the show, and once he’s tired of watching, he walks back to the kitchen and puts his things away. He goes up the stairs, he can hear laughter coming from Techno’s door. The sound of it causes Tommy to stop just outside of it, trying to listen in to whatever Techno’s laughing about. 

It’s not like Techno doesn’t laugh. He does, but it’s rare that he ever laughs this loud. Unfortunately, Tommy can’t pick up on what he’s saying. His curiosity gets the best of him, and he knocks once, then twice in the door. “Techno, what’re you doing, man?” He asks, raising his voice just enough to be heard over the laughter and through the door. He gets no reply, so he knocks again, this time a bit louder. Techno’s probably got headphones on. 

The door opens a few seconds later, and Techno is grinning at him with an unrestrained amusement. “Come in for a second, alright? Close the door behind you,” He instructs, and Tommy does so, if not with a little more concern than he had previously. Techno has Discord open on his computer, and just a glance tells him he’s sitting in a call with Dream, muted. Well, at least until Techno urges him over to the computer, putting the headphones on and unmuting himself. “Ah man, that was a good one Tommy.” He says, and man, is he shit at acting. It makes Tommy almost snort, and he has to hold back his laughter when he hears Dream shout loud enough for him to hear it through Techno’s headphones. Ah. So this is the game they’re playing. “Sorry, I’m back, Dream.”

”How is Tommy in your house?!” His voice rings through the headphones, and Tommy does actually laugh that time, startled and loud. Techno grins wide, and his tone is so unbelievably coy as he speaks.

”Who?” He asks, and it almost sounds like Dream’s short circuited from the other end. Tommy has to clamp a hand over his mouth to keep himself quiet, while Techno’s smirk turns almost shark like. It becomes difficult to hear the next little bit of conversation, though from what he can hear, Dream’s definitely a bit riled up. Every muffled noise he manages to catch sounds shocked, angry, and exasperated. It causes a new surge of joy and satisfaction to charge through him. Techno looks back at Tommy for a second, then hovers his mouse over the camera button. He holds it there for a second, and Tommy nods enthusiastically, already flipping off the camera. Techno turns on the camera, and Tommy can see an image of him and his brother appear on the screen, which he grins at. “Oh, that loser?” Techno muses, and Tommy rolls his eyes a little. “Yeah, I don’t know him.”

"Oh, fuck off." He huffs, but he can't help the way the grin sticks to his face. He leans in closer to Techno's mic, taking in hand. "We're brothers, bitch! We're fucking related and shit!" He shouts, laughing as Techno's hand comes up and pushes at the side of his face, knocking him away from both the microphone and the headphones. Techno's quick to grab the mic again, and he makes dead eye contact with his webcam when he speaks again.

"Adopted. We're adopted." He says, voice monotonous and empty. It makes Tommy roll his eyes, and he can't hear what Dream says in response, but he does he hear Techno add, "You never asked!" The exasperated and accusatory tone makes Tommy wheeze laughing, and he has to hold onto the back of Techno’s chair to prevent himself from completely crumpling to the floor in front of Dream. He still can’t quite hear Dream, but Techno’s one sided responses are almost just as funny, and he stays there, laughing and smiling as he listens in. “Well that kind of sounds like your fault.” Techno says, amused, and when the voice picks up from the microphone, he adds, “Because you were being a dick, that’s why! You don’t just take peoples things- besides, it’s fun messing with you!”

”May I talk to him, Techno?” Tommy asks quietly, not quite wanting to interrupt the conversation, but rather, wanting to be more involved in it. Techno glances up at him, then back at the screen, where the circle around Dream’s icon is lit up bright green. 

“Look man, if you’re gonna be mad about the tapes, talk to Tommy, not me.” Techno says after a moment, cutting Dream neatly off. He’s smirking as he removes the headphones and hands them to him. He gladly takes them, already hearing the rambling before he sets them on his head. 

_“Tommy!_ How did you even- How long were you been planning that?! How did you even do that?!” He asks, and all Tommy can do is laugh really, because it’s fucking funny how riled up this dude’s gotten. Considering how stoic and almighty he seemed before, having him reduced to a confused and yelling mess is more than satisfying. It’s entertaining. He can understand why Techno likes doing these kinds of things so much. 

_"Oh,_ wouldn't you like to know, _Dream."_

"Yeah! I _would!"_

The comment has Tommy bursting out into laughter, unable to contain himself. Man, what he wouldn’t give to have this power trip all the time. It would probably make him too obnoxious to be around, but dear god, was this satisfying. “Well too bad, bitch. I ain’t tellin’ you shit.” He says, words slightly uneven due to his continuous laughter. The only way to make this better would be if he could see Dream’s face, but instead, he’s left with the blinking Discord icon. A shame, really. Especially when he hears him groan at his response, frustrated with the lack of an answer.

There’s a pause, and then, “You know, I was thinking of giving them back. You didn’t have to steal my jersey.” He admits, and Tommy takes a second to think on it. When he reaches his conclusion, he scoffs.

”Yeah. Sure you fuckin’ were. You just don’t want to admit I outplayed you.” He retorts, and there’s a small silence that coils something frustrating in his chest. He thinks on his words and is about to start another ramble, when he hears an audible sigh come from the other end of the call. 

“You outplayed me.” The sentence sounds so done and defeated, and it catches Tommy completely off guard. He’s expected some sort of fight, some fun argument to entertain him for the next few minutes, but this? He couldn’t have predicted this if he tried. “There. You happy now? You did a genuinely good job, and I have no idea how you even did it.” The continuation doesn’t help either, and Tommy focuses his attention on the Discord screen, correcting his absolutely baffled expression the second he catches it. Instead, he nods, though he’s unable to help the furrow to his brows.

”Yeah. I am happy.”

”Good.” There’s a shift there that he can’t quite place. It’s enough to give him minor whiplash, his head tilting slightly to the side at the affirmation. It’s immediately followed by, “So, I saw you play Minecraft?” He’s briefly confused as to how Dream would even know that, before remembering that it shows up on Discord if you have both tabs open. So, he nods, still a little puzzled as to where this whole thing is going. “I have a server with a few friends of mine. Do you want to join?”

”What-?” 

“Yeah.” He sounds almost eager to have him join the server, which, considering their little war they just had, doesn’t make any fucking sense to him. If anything, Tommy would have thought he’d want him out of his life as quickly as possible, not prolong his stay. But, here they are. “Sapnap said you seemed pretty cool, and it’s not every day someone manages to beat me.” There’s a huff at Tommy’s side, and he glances out of the corner of his eye to look at his brother.

”I’m sitting _right_ here.” He says, eyes narrowed as if Dream has personally scorned him. It’s amusing, though maybe a little bothersome when he reaches up and takes half of the headphones, lifting the speaker up and away from his ear. Just enough so that way the sound can enter the room, albeit awkwardly tugging Tommy’s head to the side. It means both of them can hear Dream’s almost wheeze like cackle at the comment. 

“Why- Why did you sound so _offended?”_ He asks, words shaky with laughter. Tommy joins in too, chuckling to himself. He’s got a good angle to watch the tip’s of Techno’s ears turn pink. Fortunately for him, though, it doesn’t show up on their camera. He narrows his eyes at the camera, the rest of his expression settling into something cool and unbothered. 

“I’m just sayin’, if you’re looking for someone to beat you that badly, I’m available.” He replies coldly, and it brings another warm laugh from the end of the call. Tommy grins, glancing between his brother and the little icon on the screen, before letting a mischievous look settle on his face. 

“Get a room, you two.” He comments, and almost immediately he’s hit in the shoulder. He can hear Dream yelling in his ear, sounding shocked and flustered by the comment, and it only serves to send Tommy into another wheezing fit. He can hardly make sense of anything around him, but the expression on Techno’s face looks maybe two seconds away from murdering him. That’s never stopped him before, though, and as Dream yells in his ear again, he adds, “What- _What?_ That was definitely flirting!”

”Get out of my room, Tommy!” Techno shouts, pushing him away from the computer. He laughs, trying to take the headphones off his head so that they aren’t ripped away from him. He can hear Dream beginning to laugh a little from the other end as he’s shoved again, this time on his shoulder. Techno gives him a death glare, and Tommy raises his hands in defeat, grinning like an idiot. He backs up until his back meets Techno’s door. He lets his hand fumble around for the doorknob, and when he finds it, he grins devilishly.

”Sorry for interrupting your date!”

”Tommy, get out of my room!”

He slips out almost immediately after, and judging by the small _‘thunk’_ that hits the wood a second after, he made it out just in time to avoid getting hit by his brother’s shoe. He laughs to himself, walking back to his own room and heading to his computer. He decides to watch a few videos, and about five minutes in, he gets a notification on Discord. It’s a server link from Dream, and he immediately accepts it. There’s a few different channels, and a few different people on the server, including Techno himself. There’s also that Sapnap kid, some dude named Callahan, another named George, and a girl named Alyssa. Both Callahan and Alyssa are offline.

One of the channels contains a server link, which Tommy eagerly takes. He boots up the game and inputs the link into his multiplayer servers, only to find out he isn’t whitelisted on the server yet. So, he shoots a message to Dream, uncaring if the guy is still in a call with his older brother. If he had time to give Tommy a server invite, then he could take the time to whitelist him.

_TommyInnit: Hey idiot, im not whitelisted_

_TommyInnit: My username is the same on minecraft_

_TommyInnit: Whitelist me bitch_

It takes maybe three or four more messages before he gets an exasperated reply from Dream. 

_DreamWasTaken: done_

_DreamWasTaken: please dont make me regret this_

_TommyInnit: Oh i’ll make you regret it alright_

_DreamWasTaken: i WILL ban you_

Tommy doesn’t send a message after that. He laughs to himself as he refreshes his server connections, and when the SMP pops up again, he enters the world. He spawns in a little boxed in area, a few mobs here and there. He looks around, finding a way out of the cobblestone box, only to find he’s stuck there. Of fucking course he is. He opens Discord again.

_TommyInnit: I’m fucking spawn trapped_

_TommyInnit: Come get me_

_DreamWasTaken: have sapnap come get you_

Tommy groans, opening Minecraft again and typing a message into the chat. He sends it a few more times just for good measure, and he breaks out into a laugh as the server boots him for spamming. He rejoins not long after, and sees that Sapnap’s replied to his message and is coming to get him. He also tells him to join the second voice channel, which Tommy does. The second he joins he shouts, “Hello, _bitch!”_

“Hey Tommy.”

”Hey, Sapnap,” He replies, calming his voice down to match the other’s tone. As much as he would love to have someone get riled up and annoyed with him, Sapnap didn’t quite feel like the person to do that too. He wasn’t quite as obnoxious as Dream, and not nearly as much of a thorn in his side. “Hey, what the hell was that, yesterday? I thought you were helping me?” He asks, his eyebrow raising.

”Oh yeah, Dream got kinda mad when I told him I helped you. He said I had to make it up to him.” The guy answers, and Tommy’s eyes narrow.

”So you did?”

”I mean, yeah, _obviously.”_

”God, you are such a bitch.” He mutters, and he hears Sapnap laugh a little on the other end of the call. Despite himself, he smiles, his expression easing up a little bit. “Hey- Hey bitch, can you come get me? I’m stuck at spawn.” He asks, raising his voice just a little, in an attempt to make his request sound more like a command. There’s no answer, so he bounces around a little more, then adds, “Hey, did you fucking hear me? I said I’m stuck.”

”I heard you.” The reply makes Tommy laugh a little at just how done it sounds- he can practically hear the eye roll that must accompany it. He waits a little longer, until he can spot Sapnap’s name tag in the distance. 

“I see you! How do I- How do I get out?”

There’s a hum, and then, “Why should I let you out, Tommy?”

The question causes him to groan, and his character stops jumping on the screen. “Dream told me to ask you to get me out.” He answers, a threatening lilt to his voice. The threat is unsaid, but definitely there; if Sapnap doesn’t let him out, Tommy will simply bitch about it to Dream until he forces the other to get him out. Unfortunately, his threat doesn’t work, and he’s met with another thoughtful hum.

”Yeah, but he never said I had to let you.” The guy says, sounding a little amused. Tommy groans again, and the two of them sit there for a while, not a word exchanged between them. “I could just go, you know. I was planning on logging off soon.” Sapnap says, tone conversational.

Tommy sighs, and in a grumbly tone, says, “Fine. Can you please let me out of spawn? Please?” He isn’t given a reply, but he can hear blocks being placed in the game. He looks around, and sees Sapnap’s character jumping on the screen. 

“Well come on. I have to show you around.”

Tommy eagerly follows Sapnap in the game, escaping the spawn trap and following him around. He shows him around the SMP, explaining the current server rules as well as showing him the community house. Apparently, there are a few other people who are currently offline, and since they haven’t met him yet, he should be nice to them. Or at least, that’s what Sapnap tells him. He makes plans to find their bases and steal things from them for the next minute or two after he’s told that. True to his word, though, Sapnap logs off after he shows him around, and Tommy spends the next few hours gathering materials and building a home.

It’s a dirt shack by the time he’s called down for dinner, but it’s _his_ dirt shack, and that’s what’s important. When he comes down for dinner, he sees Tubbo carrying a plate. He's staring down at it with a fixed determination, walking in little half steps towards the table. He's holding the plate so tightly Tommy thinks it might crack. Phil's stood by the counter, watching him as he goes. He's not hovering, but he's watching the boy like a hawk. When Tubbo sets the plate down on the table, he turns, clapping loudly. "Yes! Yeah- I did it! Tommy, did you see?" He asks, eyes shifting between Phil and him. Tommy smiles, clapping as well.

"I did, I did. How heavy is it?" He asks, only for Phil to nudge his arm and direct him towards the rest of the plates. He nods, taking one of the plates and bringing it to the table. It isn't that heavy, really, but in comparison to the things Tubbo's held before, this is a big step up. When he turns around, he sees Tubbo take a plate from Phil, eyes narrowed as he focuses. Phil looks very proud of him, expression heart-melting as he watches Tubbo turn and inch his way towards the table. The two of them set the rest of the plates down on the table, and once that’s done, Tommy goes to get a drink. He turns around once he’s got himself a Diet Coke, smiling as he watches Tubbo struggle to pull his chair out, the wood moving slowly across the tile. When he’s done, he’s practically beaming, excitedly sitting himself down in the chair. He’s getting stronger; Tommy wonders if he’ll be able to move things with telekinesis or not. Ghosts could do that, right?

The eat dinner, and after that, Tubbo watches Tommy play a few games. He joins Techno, Dream, and Sapnap on Hypixel, and gets into a minor screaming match over a game of Bed Wars. He can hear Techno laughing both through the wall and in his ear, and at some point, he mutes himself so he can curse his brother out. It’s so loud that it’s picked up by his brothers microphone, and causes the rest of the call to burst into laughter. For a few rounds, Tommy lets Tubbo take over, watching as he fights the others. Tubbo’s not exactly the best at the game, but he isn’t bad either. That doesn’t mean he isn’t ganged up on by everyone else in the call, and at some point, he slams his hand hard enough on the table it makes a small thud. Tommy quickly has to mask his laughter with frustration, whining about how it isn’t fair that they keep attacking him. They don’t question the noise.

The rest of the weekend goes by pretty similarly. Tommy wakes up from a good rest, and then spends the day playing different video games with Tubbo. He gets introduced to George, who apparently lives in a different city. George seems a little clueless when it comes to Bed Wars, and Sapnap joins in on making fun of him for being bad. It isn’t until George mutters a small, “Shut up, it’s because I’m color blind.” That Tommy stops, shocked laughter erupting from him.

“Being color blind doesn’t give you a pass on sucking at PvP.” Sapnap says, chuckling, earning a huff from the other. Tommy ends up having to turn George’s volume down with how much he screams each time he dies, and Sapnap comments on how even Tommy isn’t that loud. They play other mini games that don’t result in someone screaming like a lunatic, and Tubbo helps him out with a few of the pattern related ones, muttering jibes whenever Tommy slips up. He ends up handing the ghost the keyboard, insisting that he should show him if he thinks he can do so much better. He does, and when he wins the mini game round, the shit eating grin on his face turns Tommy’s face a little pink. He huffs, muttering a few different swears under his breath as he takes control of the keyboard again.

The next few weeks go by fairly well. Tommy makes sure to pull his best puppy dog face when he asks his third period teacher if he’d been good enough to have his discs back, and the awkward, terrified look on her face has Tubbo giggling at his side. It causes Tommy to nearly break character, but he holds up as she begins to admit that she must have misplaced them, and that he’ll get them back the next day. “It’s alright, miss,” He says, letting his voice fall and his gaze direct to the floor. The tilt in his head does well to hide the slight smile tugging at his lips. “I just... I really want them back, y’know? They mean a lot to me.”

The next day, the teacher lectures the whole class on disruptive behavior, introducing a new ‘No Tolerance’ policy. The moment one of the students around him tries testing that, she looks up and yells at them, giving them both a call home and detention for a week. And that stops most of the bad behavior in that class. Anyone who dares break those rules suffers pretty much the same fate, unless they’ve already acted up before. Then, they’re sent right to their counselor, and marked absent for the class. The harsh treatment surprises Tommy at first, and when he brings it up at dinner that night, Phil grins and laughs like a madman. “Holy shit, I didn’t think I yelled _that_ much.” He muses, and suddenly, things make a lot more sense. An angry Phil was not a good sight to see.

Tommy spends the hours after homework playing and talking on the server. The whole tapes situation is occasionally and bitterly brought up, but both of them have acknowledged that Tommy won. Even if Dream has no idea how his shoelaces got tied together. The two form something like a friendship, and he finds himself beginning to genuinely enjoy their company. There’s a few late nights where he stays up and watches Dream try speed running the game. Those are nights where they get to really talk, teasing each other and telling stories. The funniest one is when Tommy tells the others about the three week period where Techno had taped his glasses together and hidden that fact from Phil. They call him a nerd for it despite the fact he isn’t in the call, and Dream promises to tease Techno about it the next time they call. Tommy can tell exactly what day it happens when he hears Techno yell his name through the wall. He wastes no time in locking his door.

When Friday hits, his third period teacher asks him to stay after class. She gives him a new cassette player and a bunch of new tapes, and woefully explains that she must have lost the tapes during her near month long holding of them. It’s very difficult, then, to keep up his mournful act, but he manages. She apologizes immensely for losing them, and explains how she checked her entire house to see if she’d somehow taken them there and forgotten. Tommy assures her that it’s okay, his voice sad as he says it, almost disappointed. He thanks her for the tapes, and the second he leaves the room, he’s grinning ear to ear. 

Finals creep up sooner rather than later, and their little group forgoes playing games for studying. The living room gets put to more use, with the five of them spending time studying and writing papers for the end of the semester there. Tubbo gets himself a sheet of paper to help take notes on, now able to fully lift a pen and write. Well, sort of- his handwriting his god awful, and there's enough spelling errors to give anyone reading it a stroke. At some point, he passes two paragraphs worth of notes over to Wilbur to proof read, and he bursts out laughing barely two sentences in. "Tubbo, were you dyslexic?" He asks, amused and endeared.

Tubbo laughs a little, and then, the words catch up with him. "What?" He asks, giggly and a little confused. It sends Wilbur into another laughing fit. "What's- What's dyslexic?" He asks, sounding genuinely confused. Curious, Tommy leans over to look at the sheet of paper. He gets to about the same place Wilbur does.

"Tubbo, what the hell were you trying to write?" He asks, then, after rereading it again, asks, _"Photosynthesize?"_

Tubbo leans over as well, rereading the first part, eyes catching on the word. "Y-Yeah? Is that not how it's spelled?" He says, and Tommy laughs a little, grinning.

"No, no it's not." He answers, and upon seeing Tubbo slink back a little, sheepish, he adds, "Don't worry about it. If you're having trouble with a word, ask one of us, alright?" He nods, and Tommy grins at him, getting back to work. His notes get handed back to him, and as they continue studying, the boy occasionally asks them for help. It's not much of a bother, and the four of them are happy to help out. When finals do come up, Tommy's proud to say he doesn't cheat. At least, not much. Tubbo whispers the answers to a few of the questions in his ear, but whether they actually got those questions right or not is hard to tell. 

Techno and Dream eagerly await their grades, ready to settle their rivalry once and for all. Or, at least part of it. This definitely isn't the end of their rivalry, but it settles who got the best grade in those classes. Their videogame skills are a completely different category. Winter break is a nice relief, and Tommy's shaken awake on the first day of the break. "Tommy- _Tommy!"_ Tubbo says, voice somewhere between a whisper and a yell. He groans, blinking against the harsh light. 

"What..?" He asks, voice still groggy with sleep. Everything's still a little blurry, but he can tell Tubbo's leaning over him, a grin on his face. 

"It snowed!"

Tommy sits up a little, rubbing the side of his head. Tubbo gets up off of him, and makes his way over to Tommy's window, looking outside excitedly. The air around them is cold, and Tommy shivers, pulling his blanket off his bed and keeping it around him as he joins Tubbo at the window. Sure enough, a thick layer of snow sits on the ground, leaving a blanket of white. The sun reflects off of it, leaving it blindingly white. Snow falls in heavy chunks, landind on his window and melting on contact. He shivers just standing there, and quirks a brow at Tubbo. "Do you get cold?" He asks, eyebrow quirked. Tubbo shrugs.

"Kinda? It's warm in here, though." He answers, then, more excitedly, says, "C'mon! I want to go play out in the snow! We can go sledding, or have a snowball fight!" He takes Tommy's arm in his own, and Tommy smiles as he pulls him to the door. He meets the door fist first, hissing to himself as Tubbo phases right through. The boy's head passes through the door soon after, a meek smile on his face. "Sorry. Anyways- let's go!"

Tommy's a little sluggish, but he smiles, opening the door and following after Tubbo. The boy races down the stairs, finding Phil in the kitchen and quickly starting up a conversation. Tommy joins them shortly after, Phil chuckling amusedly at Tubbo's excitement. There's a pot going on the stove, and Phil readies two mugs, pouring two cups of hot chocolate. He joins the two of them at the counter, handing one of the mugs to Tommy, who eagerly accepts. Tubbo pouts at the sight of it. "Man that smells good. I wish I could eat things." He says, and Tommy hums in agreement. 

"Yeah, that must suck." He says, and then, after nearly burning his tongue on the hot chocolate, adds, "You can't piss though, which is a plus."

"Oh my god-" Phil murmurs, a soft smile on his face. Tubbo's head tilts to the side, eyes wide.

"Is it?"

"I mean, I'd _hope."_ Tommy replies, conversationally. Phil is almost choking on laughter, mute little breaths escaping him as he listens to their conversation. "Imagine how much more shit you'd get done if you never took a piss in your life." He muses, and now, Phil full on cackles, leaning back in the bar stool. Their conversation changes topics shortly after, and when Tommy's done with his hot chocolate, he sets his cup in the sink and heads upstairs to get dressed. He gets a red hoodie, a pair of jeans, long socks, work boots, and his brown bomber jacket. He also makes sure to grab his backpack, dumping out his school supplies and replacing them with the stuffed bee. When he comes down, Tubbo's sat on the couch, a Christmas special playing on the TV. “Phil! Tubbo and I are gonna head out!” 

There’s a half second between his yelling and the reply. “Alright! Have fun, stay safe. Don’t get too cold, and don’t let Tubbo get caught.” Phil yells back. Tommy nods, and when he looks at Tubbo, the boy is practically beaming at him. The two of them head towards the door, and Tubbo turns invisible before they go. It’s much colder outside than Tommy anticipated, but the multiple layers he has on do a good job of protecting him. He looks back at Tubbo as they make their way out into the snow. The boy is staring down at the ground, an awed smile on his face as he takes slow steps. After each one is the faintest press of a footprint, and the sight of it is enough to make both of them grin. 

“Are you sure you’re not too cold?” Tommy asks, breaking the soft moment. He’s able to wear all sorts of layers to keep himself warm, but unfortunately, Tubbo isn’t really capable of that himself. Not without looking like a random floating jacket. Still, the boy smiles at him, walking a little quicker to catch up to him. 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He assures, and Tommy nods. The two of them begin their walk, and Tommy has to slow his pace as they make it to the main road. The barren trees are riddled with icicles, and Tubbo cranes his neck and slows his pace when they walk by. He actually fully stops at some point, jumping up and pulling lightly on one of the branches. When he lets go, a bit of snow and a few of the icicles fall to the ground, clattering against the sidewalk. The boy lands on a patch of ice, though, which sends him flat onto his back, a few of the icicles passing through his incorporeal body. Tommy snickers as his friend tries standing back up, legs buckling clumsily as they try to gain traction against the ice. The sight must seem very strange to any onlookers, but luckily, not many people are on the roads today. 

When Tubbo finally manages to get up, nearly slipping again and having to cling to Tommy’s jacket to keep himself upright, the two of them continue their walk. They can’t exactly go to a crowded park to have a snowball fight- the mysterious snowballs coming out of nowhere would definitely draw some attention. So, instead, they bypass the busy park and head towards the tree house. Snow crunches underfoot as they walk into the woods, their footprints creating a small path. Grass occasionally shoots through the snow, the tips of it covered in ice and frost. Reaching the river becomes a little more difficult, considering how long it’s been since they actually went. Muscle memory kicks in, and when they do reach the creek, they’re surprised to find it partially frozen over. The water moves underneath a thin sheet of ice, made like a net between the protruding rocks. 

Tommy decides to walk along the bank that day. While he could just pick up a stick and test the ice, as well as use it for balance, he didn’t exactly bring gloves. Every stick he could pick up had ice and snow covering it, and besides, even if he did manage to get a stick, slipping into the river would no doubt end him up with a cold. Christmas wasn’t too far away, and the last thing he wanted was to spend it sick in bed. So, he and Tubbo stick to the banks of the river, walking along until they find the clearing. 

While Tommy would definitely say it was prettier in the fall, he couldn’t deny how incredible it looks now. The trees of the surrounding area have snow covering their branches, icicles hanging from their ends. The yellowish grass pokes through the thick layer of snow. The bushes in the surrounding area, along with the evergreen trees, add a vibrant green color to the scene, sparing them from the blinding glare of the snow. The tree house, while covered in snow, looks to be in excellent condition despite the months of disuse. Excitedly, Tubbo grabs Tommy by the arm, finding a safe spot to drag him to the other side of the river, and then, out into the open field. 

The first thing Tubbo does is flop into the snow, laughing as he tries his best to make a snow angel. Tommy joins at Tubbo’s side, rolling his eyes as he sways his arms and legs. When the two of them get back up, Tommy can’t help but laugh at Tubbo’s snow angel. The imprint isn’t deep, and the wings aren’t exactly there. Tubbo hits him as he laughs, rolling his eyes. “You have no idea how hard that was. I’ve got to push out in every direction to do that.” He explains, and Tommy chuckles.

”Doesn’t make it any less of a shit snow angel.”

”Oh, fuck you!” Despite the upset tone, Tubbo’s laughing, and Tommy joins in as well. It starts off soft and pleasant, but then he looks at Tubbo’s shitty snow angel and it just gets louder and louder. So much so that he doesn’t notice Tubbo bend over, and as such, is caught completely off guard when a snowball is shoved onto his head, crumbling down the sides of his head. He yelps, back straightening immediately, which only serves to send a large clump of snow down the back of his shirt. Tubbo laughs loudly as he quickly squirms to shake out the clump of snow, and when Tommy’s finally got it, he huffs, picking up a good amount of snow and chucking it at the ghost in retaliation. It passes through him, and that fact only has Tubbo laughing louder, and Tommy whines at that. 

“Come on, that’s not fair! You’re all spectral and shit.” He whines, and his eyes widen as Tubbo starts collecting yet another snowball. This time, he’s a little more aware, and breaks out into a full sprint before Tubbo can throw it at him. He laughs menacingly, and Tommy runs as fast as he can away from him- which, funnily enough, tugs Tubbo along with him due to the fact he’s got the stuffed animal on him. He doesn’t quite realize this fact, though, and when he turns back and sees Tubbo not all that far from him, he shouts, “How the fuck are you keeping up with me?!”

Tubbo’s laughter turns hysterical, and after a little bit more running, Tommy turns around and huffs out a startled laugh. Tubbo is completely keeled over, almost rolled up in a ball. There’s a small trail in the snow where his footsteps stopped, and Tommy realized with a near maniacal cackle that he must have been dragging Tubbo through the snow for at least a good thirty seconds or so. The two of them stay there, laughing, and slowly, Tommy makes his way back over to his side. The two of them haven’t quite stopped laughing- Tubbo’s eyes are scrunched shut as he sucks in little breaths, unable to stop the giggling that bubbles out of his throat. Tommy gets a devilish idea, and while Tubbo keeps laughing, he pushes the snow overtop of him, burying him completely. He waits for Tubbo to notice, almost bursting out in laughter as his friend’s head suddenly pokes out from the pile, sending bits of snow in every direction. They stay like that for a little while, laughing at their antics, and Tommy can’t help notice that little bits of snow are resting atop Tubbo’s head.

It doesn’t cling to his hair like if he was alive, and as Tubbo begins to calm down, they slowly pass through him and join the small pile. But it’s interesting, and Tommy can’t help but smile at it, small creases forming at the corners of his eyes. “You know, I don’t think we really thought the whole ‘snowball fight’ thing through,” He muses, and Tubbo nods in agreement, still trying to even out his breaths. “How about we make some snowmen? I reckon we could make a giant one if we wanted to.” He suggests, and Tubbo nods, smiling.

Tommy lets Tubbo start it off. The boy, try as he might, can’t move things once they get too heavy. He could barely move a wooden chair last they checked. He wants Tubbo to feel included, though, and once it starts getting to the point where Tubbo’s hands aren’t enough to push the snowball, Tommy helps, and then he entirely takes over while Tubbo starts a new one. The result isn’t actually that big- Tommy’s hands get cold the longer their out, and he needs to stop so that way he can warm them up again. There’s also the fact that he needs to be able to lift up the other two parts so that way they can actually make the snowman, and he’s- well, he’s pretty scrawny. He doesn’t exactly have bulk to him. So, when both of them are tired, Tommy adds the two smaller snowballs on top of the first one, adding snow where they meet so that way they can stay together. He backs up once they’re done to admire his work, taking in their awkward creation.

Tubbo hums. “It’s got ass.”

The comment has Tommy almost screaming with laughter, as he realizes, “Holy shit, you’re right, you’re fucking right.” Tubbo giggles a bit at his laughter, and while Tommy nearly collapses with it, he picks up a bit of snow and rolls it out in his hands. When Tommy looks up, he nearly breaks out into yet another laughing fit at the sight of Tubbo adding boobs to the snow woman. When he’s done with the, erm, the enhancements, he stands back, admiring his work. “That’s- That’s great,” Tommy muses, standing up and brushing the snow off his legs. “But she’s still bald. She ain’t got no arms, Tubbo.” Tubbo hums for a second, then walks over towards the edge of the clearing. He finds a decent sized twig and snaps it in half, bringing it back. He sticks them both on either side of the torso, then comes back and smiles.

While Tubbo does that, Tommy searches through the snow and gets a handful of the yellow grass, reaching up and packing it onto the snow woman’s head. It ends up looking a bit like a hairless rat, or some drug addict, but hey, it’s not like it was gonna end up looking any good anyway. When the two of them are almost done, they gather up a few things to make the face. They manage to find a few acorn tops, as well as some plucked leaves from the bushes. They give it a lopsided smile and leaves for eyebrows, along with a few leaves over the snow boobs. The end result looks absolutely fucking stupid, and Tommy’s hands are nearly freezing off. They come up with a few names, spitballing different ideas that make them more and more giggly, before deciding on simply _‘Girlfriend, The Skull Crusher’._

It isn’t said who’s girlfriend it actually is, but that’s irrelevant. 

After that, the two of them walk back home, primarily so that Tommy can warm up. The pot of hot chocolate is still going on the stove, still warm, and Tommy doesn’t waste time in getting himself another mug full of it. His hands are still shaking from the cold, and he almost spills some of it, but he manages to make sure it doesn’t spill. He grabs his mug and unzips his jacket, sitting with Tubbo on the couch so that way they can continue watching Christmas specials. It’s cozy and nice, and after about an hour or two, with Tommy having lunch somewhere during that time, Phil comes out from his room. “Oh, you two are back?” He says, and Tommy hums, looking up from the TV.

”Yeah. It was getting kind of cold.” He says. Phil hums, walking past them, ruffling Tommy’s hair on the way. He hasn’t gotten out of his pajamas today, and his hairs a bit messier than usual. He’s got a cup of hot chocolate in his hands as well, one that he sets down on the table. They finish watching this last special, when Tommy turns to Tubbo and asks, “So, you wanna head out again?”

Tubbo nods happily, standing up from the couch. Tommy goes to the door and just as he’s about to grab his jacket, Phil shouts, “Oh yeah! I got your sleds down from the attic. They should be in the coat closet!” 

Tommy’s eyes widen, and when he opens the door to grab his jacket, he sees the sleds. He grins, quickly shrugging on his jacket and taking one of the sleds in his hands. “Thanks Phil! We’ll be back before dinner!” He shouts, and once Tubbo turns himself invisible, the two head out again. This time, they walk towards the park, where a decent sized hill is. The park is full of families and teens, and Tommy wastes no time in finding a spot on the hill for themselves. He walks up the entire height of the hill, wanting to go as fast and as far as possible. There’s a few parents there with their tiny kids, as well as a few excited teens. Tommy keeps his voice down as he sets himself up, and says to Tubbo, “Hold on tight- I don’t want you flying off the back and being dragged through the snow.”

He waits until Tubbo’s situated himself behind him, phantom hands wrapping around him, and once he feels the contact, he pushes, and the two of them go soaring down the hill. Tommy has to lean every now and then to avoid completely obliterating small children, but for the most part, the ride is exhilarating and fun. He leans forward to lower the wind resistance, shouting out as they go even faster. They slowly creep to a halt, and once they’re done, Tommy’s grinning ear to ear. “That was so fun- do you think we could go faster?” Tubbo asks, and Tommy nods. The two of them make their way back up to the top of the hill, going down again and again.

There’s one run where Tommy gets a running start, and Tubbo unfortunately doesn’t quite make the jump. So, for the entire ride down the hill, he’s dragged along, landing at the bottom a good bit away from Tommy. Tommy doesn’t realize until he gets up and starts rambling about how fast they went, only to turn around he see his friend face down in the snow a good bit away. He chuckles, shaking his head as he walks over to him. He rolls over onto his back as Tommy approaches, a winded smile on his face. “Don’t miss next time, idiot.” Tommy murmurs, and Tubbo huffs, rolling his eyes as he gets back on his feet. 

They go a few more times, even deciding to race a few of the other kids there. It keeps them entertained for a good while, and only when both he and Tubbo are exhausted and the sun is beginning to set do they decide to head home. Exhaustion creeps up on them as they trudge their way home, and when they finally get there, Tommy’s relieved to kick off his snow boots and take off his jacket. He slumps on top of the couch, curls himself up under a blanket, and falls asleep there until dinner with Tubbo sitting next to him. When dinner comes, Tommy’s woken with a gentle nudge to his shoulder. The warm food is pleasant and nice, and Techno’s started a fire in the fireplace. They discuss Christmas shopping plans, as well as days where they’ll try to see the Christmas lights around town. It’s a good day, and Tommy goes up to his room late that night, changing into warm pajamas and pulling the covers up and over his shoulders. 

The blankets create a pocket of warmth as the night cools the temperature around them. There’s no longer the hum of crickets, and instead, there’s the faint whir of the cassette player, as Wilbur’s songs fill the otherwise silent air around them. The two fall asleep after a while, exhausted and well spent. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ngl this chapter and the next one were meant to be one chapter, but this one got so long that I had to split up the events. so the next chapter will ALSO be Christmas-y.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> had to post this before my birthday tomorrow, otherwise it would never get done

The snow sticks around for the next few days. He and Tubbo spend the time going sledding, as well as returning to their field and checking up on their snow woman. Each little adventure ends with them returning home, with Tommy curling up under a warm blanket with a mug of hot chocolate, and Tubbo sitting beside him, watching whatever series of Christmas specials was playing at the time. The snow melts and leaves awkward puddles everywhere after about three days.

It makes the room almost uncomfortably warm, and Tommy yawns as he wakes up, just two days away from Christmas. Tubbo is curled up on the bed next to him, still asleep. It’s strange- Tommy rarely gets to see Tubbo sleeping, especially in the mornings. Usually the other is up well before him, already downstairs and chatting with Phil or watching some morning cartoon. Tommy doesn’t pay it much mind though, and instead heads downstairs to let Tubbo have his rest. They had been doing a lot these past few days, it wasn’t like Tubbo didn’t have a right to feel exhausted. 

He greets Phil as he enters the kitchen, seeing a waffle machine set out, along with a measuring cup full of batter. Tommy grins at the sight of it, and almost immediately grabs a few blueberries and a banana. As he slices the banana, Phil starts a conversation. “Tommy, you, Tubbo, and I are gonna head out today for Christmas shopping. So after breakfast you should probably get dressed.” He says, and Tommy nods excitedly. The thought of what to get everyone for Christmas had been sitting in the back of his mind for the past few days, and he thinks he has a good idea of what to get. However, at the mention that Tubbo’s coming with them, he pauses.

”Actually, Phil, Tubbo seems really tired today. Is it alright if we let him sleep in?” He requests, and Phil nods. He smiles, though Tommy can’t help but notice the slight concern to his expression. His own smile turns to a small frown as he turns back to the waffle iron, pouring in the batter and then adding the different fruits. Once he closes the iron, he adds, “And, you know... I kinda want to get him something, too. Can’t have him seeing what I get him.” 

When he turns around, most of the concern is completely gone from Phil’s expression, instead replaced with a warm fondness. It makes Tommy’s chest grow warm and the tips of his ears turn pink, and he’s half tempted to start swearing up a storm if it means Phil won’t look at him with such an overwhelming adoration. “Of course, Tommy. We’ll have him stay home.” He says, and Tommy nods, going back to his breakfast. It takes a few more seconds, but then, he’s able to pull four blueberry and banana waffles out of the machine. It smells really good, the batter cooked crisp and brown. There’s spots of purplish blue in there, along with a slight uneven texture from the banana. He grabs himself a knife and fork, and sits himself next to Phil for breakfast. He grabs the syrup, pouring it over the waffles, and as he eats, Wilbur comes down too. 

His hair’s kind of a mess, but to be fair, Tommy’s probably isn’t any better. He’s wearing a warm looking white sweater, along with some cozy pajama bottoms. “Morning Dad. Morning Tommy,” He greets, and Tommy hums through a mouthful of food. Wil looks at the two of them, then to the waffle iron and the ample amount of batter left in the pitcher. He grins at the sight of it, and quickly gets to work preparing his own breakfast. He forgoes the blueberries, and instead reaches into the pantry for some nuts, adding them in with the rest of the banana. As he sets the waffle to cook, he turns around and leans against the counter, looking to Tommy. “So, got any big plans today?” He asks, smiling. 

Anything Tommy says is immediately muffled by the food in his mouth, so Phil speaks for him, chuckling a little at whatever Tommy’s trying to say. “The two of us are doing our Christmas shopping today.” He answers. Wil nods, and when Tommy swallows the massive mouthful he definitely should not have taken, he quirks a brow at his brother.

”Wait, have you already done your Christmas shopping?” He asks, receiving a nod. His brother turns, then, and pulls his waffles from the iron, setting them on his plate. 

“Techno and I went out during the snow days to get things. Now it’s you, Tubbo, and Phil’s turn.” He explains. He grabs himself a fork and knife, sitting down at Tommy’s other side so that he can eat his breakfast. He takes the syrup, and in Tommy’s opinion, doesn’t add nearly enough of it before putting it down and beginning to eat. 

“Actually, Tubbo’s sleeping in today.” Phil says, and Wilbur hums an acknowledgement, his mouth full of food. “Can you try and keep an eye on him for me? Usually he just watches TV, but try and keep him a little entertained.” He requests, and Wilbur nods, continuing to eat. The sight of it is enough for him to chuckle, shaking his head. “I swear to god, the two of you are going to choke if you don’t take smaller bites.” Wilbur swallows his food with an audible gulp, and the wince he tries to hide tells them that there’s no way he was done chewing.

”At least I’m not going to drown on syrup, unlike some people.” He comments, and this time it’s Tommy’s turn to swallow his food. 

He has to suck in a breath, the food landing on his stomach like a fruit flavored rock. “It is a perfectly good amount of syrup! You’re the fucking lunatic who eats dry waffles.” He exclaims, his voice a bit raspy from his hasty eating. Phil’s chuckling quietly at his side, while Wilbur looks entirely offended at the accusation.

”I put syrup on mine!”

”Yeah, not enough of it! And who even puts nuts in waffles? You gonna sit there and enjoy your nut waffles?” He taunts, and Phil bursts out laughing at that, leaning over the counter with his head in his hands. 

“Yeah, I will! I’m gonna enjoy these nuts, and- and bananas-“ Wil tries to counter, but half way through he just starts giggling. He can’t get through the rest of the sentence. Tommy has to restrain himself from laughing, and instead, finishes the rest of his waffles in what he’ll assure Phil is a _timely fashion,_ not a choking hazard. Once he’s done, he sets his plate in the sink, and heads back up the stairs to get dressed. He walks into his room, finding Tubbo exactly where he left him. He looks a little more transparent as the light filters into the room, passing right through him. He’s still sound asleep, and Tommy makes sure to keep quiet as he walks through his room and gathers up his clothes. Not once does Tubbo stir, or make any sort of movement or noise, and Tommy closes the door quietly as he leaves so as not to wake him up. 

He gets changed in the bathroom, wearing his brown jacket with one of his red baseball tees underneath. He also wears a pair of jeans and the work boots he’d worn because of the snow, mostly because he’s sure it’s still cold out. He fixes his hair a little in the bathroom mirror, and once he’s satisfied, he walks back down the stairs. “Phil, are you ready to go?” He asks. He doesn’t get an immediate reply, which causes his brows to furrow. “Phil?” He asks, this time a little quieter as he walks back over to the kitchen, where he sees the man having a hushed conversation with Wilbur. He stands there for a moment, unable to hear whatever they’re talking about, and then asks again. “Phil? You, uh- you ready mate?”

Phil turns almost immediately, eyes wide. His expression morphs then into a meek smile, and he nods. “Yeah- Yep, just give me a second. Can you get the car running?” He asks, and Tommy nods. His expression is even, if not a little confused, and Phil makes no movement under his gaze. He clears his throat, and adds, “I’ll be out in a second, okay Toms? The keys are by the door.”

It’s an easy enough hint to take. Tommy’s still a bit concerned as he leaves, though, hearing Wilbur and Phil go back to their hushed conversation. Maybe it’s about Christmas presents or something, he thinks as he grabs the keys from their place by the door. But, then again, if it were just about Christmas presents, surely Phil wouldn’t have looked so worried. Tommy huffs as he hops into the passenger side of the car, putting the keys into the ignition and turning the car on. Cold air blows out of the vents, causing him to shiver as he quickly switches the fan to something higher. The temperature is already on high, but it’ll take a moment for the heater to work. It gives him plenty of time to think about how Phil wouldn’t tell him whatever he seemed so worried about, but he did tell Wil. 

Maybe it’s something he thinks Tommy isn’t grown up enough to know about, and the idea of that makes him incredibly frustrated, brows furrowing as he sits in the cold car. He can handle a lot. His previous foster homes proved that to him. He’s tough, and has learned to take on the world no matter what it throws at him. Wil was adopted when he was a little kid- certainly Tommy can handle more than he can. Still, the idea of Phil hiding this from Tommy unsettles him. He can’t bring himself to bring it up, even as Phil opens the driver’s side door and settles in. “Damn, it’s hot in here. You should take your coat off, Tommy.” He says, sounding very different from when he was inside. Tommy hums, shrugging off his coat, not bothering to take his seatbelt off. He sets it at his feet, looking out the window as Phil pulls out of the driveway. _It was about Christmas presents,_ he thinks to himself. _Christmas gifts._

It does nothing to settle the growing lump in his stomach. 

“So, what were you thinking of getting them? I’ll pay for it, and we can wrap them once we get home.” Phil asks. Tommy begins to explain each of his ideas, and Phil nods, taking each one in. “Yeah, I’m sure we can do that.” He says once Tommy’s done, and with a route in mind, he begins driving to a few different stores. He goes slowly, just in case there’s black ice out on the road. It allows them to listen to a few of the Christmas songs on the radio, and Tommy looks out the window as they go. There’s so many lights set up around town, at the entrances to neighborhoods and wound around trees. Some of the houses have inflatables set up. Half the ones there aren’t inflated yet so that they can save on electricity, which leaves them slumped and crumpled awkwardly in their places. It eases the tension in Tommy’s stomach, bringing a small smile to his face.

After he was taken in by Phil, Christmas easily became his favorite holiday. 

Their first stop is at a comic and pop culture shop downtown. They park their car just outside, and as they walk in, a bell above the door chimes. The person working the counter smiles, waving at them. “Hello,” Tommy greets, and then begins to wander the store, with Phil following at his side. He looks through the different racks of old comics, as well as some display cases with neat little action figures set up. Phil walks just behind him, letting him search the store unassisted. Tommy briefly considers one or two of the comics, and checks their pricing. Then, he sets them back, and walks up to the counter. “Excuse me, but do you have any lightsabers?” He asks. The guy takes notice of him, and he adds, “Like- Like a really cool one? It’s for my older brother.”

”Yeah, of course. Any color?”

”Red. Or purple, if you’ve got one.” He says, and the guy nods, checking a few of the shelves behind him. It’s interesting- the guy’s looks somewhere around his or Techno’s age, with ginger hair that has silver streaks in it. He comes back up with a box, setting it on the counter and opening it. He pulls it out and opens it, and when he turns on the light, it’s a rather vibrant red as opposed to the cheaper dingy plastic ones. Tommy’s eyes widen at the sight of it, and he grins, watching the guy put it back in the box.

”Sorry, we don’t have any purple ones. But we do have a few green and blue ones, if you want.” He says, closing up the box again and setting it back.

”How much for a red one?”

The guy checks the shelves again, bringing out an unopened box. He spins it around until he finds the barcode on the side of the box, then rings it up. Tommy’s a little unsure when the price comes up- it isn’t super expensive like he feared it would be, but it’s high enough that he considers just going back and grabbing a few of the Star Wars comics he saw earlier. He looks back at Phil, who’s smiling down at him. “Is this what you want to get him?” Phil asks, and Tommy hesitates a second before nodding. Phil smiles, the turns back to the guy, pulling out his card. “We’ll take it, then.”

Tommy smiles as the guy rings them up. He’s noticed it as the guy’s talked, but he’s got a funny accent too. He doesn’t say anything until they’ve got the lightsaber in a shopping bag, and as they leave, he turns his head over his shoulder. “Merry Christmas!” He chimes, following Phil out the door. He hears the guy mirror his words, and the two of them walk back to the car, where they hop in and begin to drive to their next location. As they go, Tommy feels something in his chest, and after a minute, he works up the courage to talk. “That wasn’t too expensive, was it?” He asks, his voice low. Phil hums, glancing at him out of the corner of his eye.

”What? Of course not. This is a special time, Tommy.” He assures, but still, it doesn’t quite sit right with him. It must show on his expression, because after a second, Phil adds, “Besides, I’m making a bit more money at my new job here. Which means it’s okay to get a little pricy. Promise.” Tommy nods at that, and goes back to looking out the window. It’s reassuring, but still doesn’t quite settle in him. “Where’d you want to go next?”

”You know that music shop Wil likes? Back near our old neighborhood?”

Phil nods, and the two of them drive there next. Phil’s phone buzzes from where it rests in the cup holder, and Tommy can’t help but glance at it, seeing the different messages pop up. They come in quick succession, to the point where Tommy furrows his brow at it. “Phil, your phone’s buzzing.” He says, and Phil hums, keeping his eyes on the road.

”I’ll check it when we stop. You can go inside and try and find what you’re looking for.” He says. Tommy nods, though the phone keeps buzzing every now and then, eventually stopping just as they reach the shop. Tommy hops out of the car, and he looks at Phil just before he closes the door. The man takes his phone and checks the messages, eyes widening a little bit. Then, he looks back to Tommy, plastering a smile on his face. “It’s just my boss, Toms. Go inside and look for what you want. I’ll be in shortly.”

That makes Tommy’s chest tighten, but he nods, shutting the car door and heading into the shop. There’s a song playing on the radio as he enters. It isn’t a Christmas one, but the break from the holiday music is nice. The shop is nice, with different instruments set up in their stands. There’s also a magazine rack full of vinyl records, and a rotating rack next to it full of vinyl stickers and guitar picks. Tommy lets himself wander the stores, occasionally looking out the glass window. Phil looks worried, now that he’s alone in the car, and now he’s hopped into a phone call. Tommy feels a little sick at the thought of something being wrong with Phil’s job, and he keeps himself mindful of it as he looks around. He finds a notebook for lyrics at a reasonable price, as well as a good tuning kit. The door rings, and Tommy turns his head, seeing Phil walk in. He’s got that same plastered smile on his face, and Tommy can tell something’s wrong.

”Did you find anything?” Phil asks as he walks up to him, seeing the things he’s gathered in his arms. “Oh, nice. That’s a good book.” He says, and Tommy isn’t exactly sure what to say. He nods, then turns back to the instruments in front of him- a few different ukuleles. Phil follows his gaze, and Tommy’s eyes narrow once he sees the price. If something’s happened at Phil’s job, he really doesn’t want to get something too expensive. “Are you thinking of getting that for Wil?”

Tommy shakes his head. “No. I thought I might get it for Tubbo. The notebook and the tuning kit are for Wil.” He answers. Phil smiles warmly, and picks up a nice yellow one from the rack. 

“That sounds nice. Do you think this one should do?” He asks, giving the instrument a small strum. It sounds nice, not like any of the cheap plastic ones. Which makes sense, considering it’s price. It isn’t a toy ukulele or a children’s guitar- it’s an actual instrument. Light enough for Tubbo to play without struggle. Still, the price tag is ominous, and Tommy can’t hide his concern.

”It’s a little expensive though.” He murmurs, and Phil’s eyes widen a little. He checks the price himself, and then, his expression looks almost guilty. Tommy feels that emotion almost tenfold, even as Phil shakes his head.

”What are you talking about? This seems pretty good for a ukulele.” He says, and Tommy isn’t sure how to react. Phil sets his hand on Tommy’s shoulder, the contact warm and grounding. “Don’t worry, everything’s going fine at work, alright? Why don’t you pick out some stickers for Tubbo to decorate it with?” He suggests, pointing Tommy in the direction of the rotating rack. Tommy’s still not convinced, but there’s something to Phil’s voice that calms him down. The two of them walk over to the stickers and find some nice looking ones, which they then bring to the counter and buy. Once they’re all done, they walk back to the car and drive back to their house. It’s later in the day, and Tommy’s calmed down a little now. Phil’s phone hasn’t buzzed once since he got off the phone call. 

They take the bags out from the car, and quickly move them into Phil’s room, where Tommy sets them on the bed so they can be wrapped. Just as Phil gets the wrapping paper out, his phone buzzes, and he checks the notification. Immediately, he sets the wrapping paper and his phone down on the bed, looking at Tommy. “I’ll be right back- I think I forgot my keys in the car.” He says, and Tommy nods, watching him leave the room. He waits, and his stomach tightens as he hears Phil go up the stairs instead of out the front door. He looks at the door, then notices Phil’s phone peeking out from under a few tubes of wrapping paper. There’s a faint glow coming from under the screen, and Tommy’s eyes widen as he realizes that Phil never shut off his phone. He glances back at the bedroom door one last time before he takes the phone in his hand, scrolling up through the day’s messages. It’s a chat with Wilbur.

_Wil: Tubbo’s missing_

_Wil: I went to check on him cuz he hadn’t come down, and he’s missing_

_Wil: Dad, please answer me, I don’t know what to do_

_Wil: Techno hasn’t seen him either_

Tommy’s eyes widen at that. The next few messages are pretty similar, all things along the lines of _‘Phil’,_ or _‘Dad’,_ or _‘This is an emergency’._ Things meant to get his attention and keep his phone buzzing. The time stamp shifts from earlier in the day to only a minute or two ago. 

_Wil: HES BACK_

That last message is a relief. Tommy hears the click of the door as it opens, and nearly screams, chucking Phil’s phone onto the bed. He’s breathing heavily as Phil walks into the room, looking a little exhausted. His eyebrows raise when he sees Tommy, shutting the door behind him as he enters. The two of them stare at each other for a moment, and then, Tommy says, “So- So there isn’t a problem with work?”

Phil sighs, exhausted, and nods, walking back to the bed. “Sorry I didn’t tell you. I didn’t want you to worry.” He murmurs, sitting down on the edge of the bed. There’s a brief silence between them, then, “We think he’s just caught a cold from being out in the snow for the past few days. He’s back now, and Wil’s keeping an eye on him. If he disappears again, he’s supposed to tell me immediately.” 

“...Do you think he’ll be alright?” He can’t help the way his voice fills with concern, or the way his chest swells with an overwhelming feeling when Phil looks back at him and smiles softly. His hand comes up and ruffles his hair, and Tommy lets it, despite the fact a warmth seeps through his body like a wave.

”Of course, Toms. C’mon, let’s get these presents wrapped.” He says, and Tommy nods. The two of them set to work wrapping the gifts, and the meticulous task keeps Tommy’s mind at bay. It’s very difficult making sure the ukulele doesn’t look like an ukulele while wrapped, so they give up, and instead find a big enough bag to put it in. Besides, it’ll be easier for Tubbo to open it that way. Tommy adds the bows to the presents once they’re wrapped, along with a little name tag to say who they’re to and who they’re from. Once they’re all done, Phil takes the gifts and puts them in his closet, where they’ll stay until Christmas Eve. Tommy watches him, sitting idly on the corner of the bed.

When Phil turns around, Tommy asks, “Is it alright if I go upstairs to see him?” Phil nods instantly, and Tommy thanks him, just barely managing to keep himself from bolting out of the room and up the stairs. Instead, he forces himself to walk, until he’s stood outside his own door. He knocks, once, then twice more, and the door opens. Wilbur’s mouth is open when he opens the door, but the second his eyes land on Tommy, he closes the door a bit more and stands in the way of the opening. 

“Hey, Tommy! I uh, I wasn’t sure you’d be back so soon!” He says, rather awkwardly. He looks tense, a grin plastered onto his face. Tommy’s eyes narrow.

”He told me, you know.” He says, coldly, and he watches Wilbur slump a bit at the words. He sighs, letting his hand slide across his face to relieve some of the tension, and asks, “Can I come in please?”

Wil nods, opening the door a bit wider and letting Tommy inside. Tubbo’s exactly where he left him this morning, curled up in his spot on the bed. Tommy walks over slowly, trying not to disturb the quiet of his room. Eventually, he sits himself on his side of the bed, watching the slow rise and fall of Tubbo’s chest. His brows are furrowed slightly, mouth agape, and Tommy’s eyes widen a little as he notices the subtle tear tracks running down his face. He reaches out, letting his hand fall to Tubbo’s, only to pass right through the spectral body. Still, Tubbo’s hand twitches slightly, as if he can feel Tommy’s touch. And, Tommy realizes, his brows furrowing with confusion, next to his hand lies small darkened spots on his pillowcase. He moves his hand just slightly, feeling the tear spots for himself. They’re wet. 

“Do you want me to leave you two alone for a while?” Wil asks, voice soft, and Tommy turns his head to see his brother stood maybe a few feet behind him. He looks concerned, and after a second, Tommy nods.

”If you don’t mind-?” Wilbur nods immediately, and leaves the two of them alone in the room. The door closes quietly, and Tommy sighs, returning his gaze back to Tubbo. There’s some points where the boy fades in and out of transparency, to where Tommy’s sure he’d be invisible for anyone but him. And then, frighteningly enough, he turns almost _completely_ transparent, to where Tommy worries he’s fading away for good. It makes his breath hitch, his hand grasping at the sheets where Tubbo lays, only for the boy to return a moment later. Tommy’s not sure how long he stays there, sat at Tubbo’s side, but he isn’t called down to dinner. He puts on some tapes to pass the time, watching Tubbo like a hawk. He disappears maybe once or twice more, and each time he comes back with tears trailing down his face, his fingers twitching as if to hold on to something. It hurts Tommy to watch, but he’d rather die than look away.

It isn’t until the sky is dark and the room is illuminated by the ceiling light does Tubbo stir awake, blinking. He wipes at his face with the inside of his arm, and Tommy watched silently, an excited look on his face. Tubbo looks back at him, eyes wide and maybe a little confused, and Tommy can’t help but laugh with relief. “Good to have you back, Big Man.” He says, a slight strain to his voice. There’s a pause where the two of them get their bearings, and then, Tubbo speaks, having to clear his throat first.

”That was- That was the weirdest dream I’ve ever had.” He whispers, and then, a little louder, “That was the _first_ dream I’ve ever had.”

”Really?”

Tubbo nods. “Usually it’s just dark, and the music plays, and then it’s quiet. But it was bright this time. And I could hear people talking.” He explains. Tommy hums, curious, and Tubbo continues. “There was- There were four voices, maybe? It was hard to tell. But there was a really deep one, and a woman’s voice, and then another one.”

”Could you make out anything they said?” Tommy asks. Tubbo shakes his head.

”No. Just- Just sounds.” He says. As he does, tears swell in the corners of his eyes. He realizes this at the same time Tommy does, and he quickly works to wipe them away. They pass right through the bed, leaving nothing to indicate they’d ever fallen. “It felt... it felt really nice, though. But kind of scary? I don’t- I have no idea what that was.”

”Do you think it’ll happen again?” Tommy asks, worried. Tubbo thinks on it for a moment, wordless.

”I don’t know.”

The idea of it happening again is incredibly worrying, and Tommy has no idea how he’d feel if he woke up the next morning and Tubbo was gone. So, instead, he decides to completely ignore the feeling, putting on a plaster smile himself. He knows it doesn’t hide the worry in his eyes, but he’s just trying to be reassuring. “Hey, let’s head downstairs, alright? You kind of worried everyone, and I think they’ll be happy to know you’re awake.” He says, keeping his voice soft and soothing. Tubbo’s brow furrows at him for a second, but it quickly relaxes. He nods, and Tommy smiles a little softer, more genuine emotion behind it. He pauses the cassette tape, and the two of them head downstairs. Tommy doesn’t let Tubbo out of his sight. 

When they get downstairs, Phil, Wilbur, and Techno are all curled up on the couch watching a show on TV. Techno looks up at the sound of them coming down the stairs, and grins at them, nudging Wilbur to his left. Wil looks up, and smiles wide at the sight of them. “Phil, Tubbo’s awake!” He chimes, and Phil quickly pauses the show, looking over the back of the couch and spotting the two of them. He looks incredibly relieved, and Tubbo gives an awkward smile, sheepishly waving at the three of them. 

“Good to see you boys are doing well. I have a pot of soup going on the oven. Get yourselves some and come over here.” He instructs. Tommy’s about to say he isn’t hungry, and that he’d rather just sit and watch the show, when his stomach growls. And to be fair, the soup smells really fucking good. So he nods, and the two of them head to the kitchen, where Tommy gets himself a bowl of soup. He gets Tubbo a smaller cup, and when he hands it to the ghost, the boy looks up at him, confused. Tommy looks between him and the mug, then realizes what he’s done.

”You can still smell it though, right? You should at least hold it to warm you up.” He explains, and Tubbo nods, a soft smile spreading across his face. He brings the mug closer to his chest as Tommy serves himself a bowl, and then the two of them head back to the living room, sitting on the floor so they can watch the show. Neither of them talk about what happened for the rest of the night. They do, however, sit closer together, and when the soup is done and they return up to Tommy’s room for the night, Tubbo’s arms wrap around him with the promise to never let go. Tommy holds on to the stuffed bee in kind, keeping it close to his chest as the two of them fall asleep. 

Tommy wakes up every now and then to check if Tubbo’s still there, relieved every single time when he finds Tubbo hasn’t left him. There is a point, late in the night, when Tommy feels tears soak into the back of his shirt. He doesn’t question it. Both of them are still there the next morning. Tommy rolls over and finds Tubbo awake, staring at him. It should startle him, but instead, it’s a relief. Either way, Tubbo murmurs, “I didn’t want you to think I was gone.” Not more is said on the topic other than that.

They decide to spend the day inside. If Tubbo really had managed to get sick somehow, it was probably good if he didn’t go out in the cold all that much. So, they start their day sitting on the couch, watching any Christmas movie that comes on. And while Tommy wouldn’t exactly call _Gremlins_ a Christmas movie, he supposes it counts. By the time their done watching the movies, Phil comes into the room, greeting them both. He looks just as relieved as Tommy was to see that Tubbo’s still awake. As he walks to the kitchen, he stops himself short, swearing under his breath. He then turns his head over his shoulder, and yells, “Hey, do you two want to help me bake cookies today? Time kind of got ahead of me and I haven’t made ‘em yet.”

Tubbo’s eyes widen at the request, and Tommy grins. “Sure Phil. Just tell us when.” He answers, and he can’t help but smile at how excited Tubbo looks. Phil nods, and maybe an hour or two later, he calls them into the kitchen to help him bake cookies. He’s printed out a gingerbread recipe, and he reads out the ingredients once Tommy’s washed his hands. Tubbo does too, kind of, but it just ends up passing through his hands. Tommy’s not even sure if they can _get_ dirty, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he and Tubbo work to get things out of the pantry and the spice cabinet, until they have a full array of ingredients set out on the counter. 

Tommy lets Tubbo do most of the mixing. Not because he dislikes baking or anything like that, but rather because Tubbo seems so enthusiastic about it. He’s eager to take the ingredients and measure them, practically jumping at the opportunity to use the electric mixer. It whirs to life in his hands, and Tommy nearly bruises his hand when Tubbo turns it on to the highest setting and almost drops it. Flour flies into the air around them, causing Tubbo to yelp and Tommy to burst into a coughing fit, flour dusting his clothes. Tubbo gets the hang of it, though, brows furrowed as he focuses his concentration on holding the machine. It’s easy work from there, even if Tommy does end up covered in flour by the end of it. They scoop the batter onto the piece of plastic wrap, and put it in the freezer to set. 

Tommy takes the time to get changed, and the second he enters the kitchen again, Phil tosses him one of their rarely used aprons. Tommy begrudgingly puts it on, and as he’s tying it around his waist, Tubbo asks Phil if he can have one too. Phil gives him a little smile, lopsided and with a quirked brow, but agrees, and jokingly hands him Wilbur’s old apron. The first time he puts it on, the neck part slips straight through, and Tommy has to hold back his laughter. It takes a few more tries for him to get it right, but eventually, he manages to hold the string up with his neck. He can’t exactly tie it around his waist though, so instead, it hangs loosely, far too big for him anyways. It’s silly looking; all three of them know it. Tubbo doesn’t take it off. 

Thirty minutes passes and they take the batter out from the freezer. They dust the counter with powdered sugar, and Phil rolls out the dough. He has Tommy search for the Christmas cookie cutters, and when he finds them, Phil steps away from the dough and has him and Tubbo set the cookie cutters down. They fill up two cookie sheets with gingerbread cookies, some in the shape of Santa’s sleigh, and others shaped like traditional gingerbread men. They set each baking tray in the oven, and have them cook for twenty minutes. They get a break, then, and Phil sends them out of the room while he makes frosting for the cookies. 

They sit down at the counter to wait. Tubbo enjoys the smell of the baking cookies, as well as the warmth of the oven. They watch as Phil gathers the ingredients for the frosting, making it and separating it into a few smaller bowls. When the oven dings, Phil asks one of them to open it and get the cookies out so they can cool. Tubbo offers to do it, though he needs Tommy’s help in opening the oven. “Shouldn’t you wear mitts?” Tommy asks, a lopsided grin on his face as he watches Tubbo crouch down. Tubbo smiles, excited as he shakes his head.

”No, I don’t think so. I’m kind of a ghost aftera-“ He cuts himself off the second his hand comes into contact with the tray, and he yelps, pulling his hand back to his chest. It startles Tommy for a moment, and then he bursts into laughter, nearly falling over. “How does that even work?! I’m dead!” He exclaims, sounding incredibly upset at the whole ordeal, and it only makes Tommy laugh harder. Especially when Tubbo groans. “Aw, damn it! The apron fell too!”

”Oh my god,” Phil murmurs, laughing quietly to himself. “One of you better get those cookies out. They’re gonna burn.”

”On it.” Tommy replies, reaching into a drawer and pulling out a set of oven mitts. He kneels down and takes each tray out, setting them on the stove top and shutting off the oven afterwards. As he takes them off, he looks down at Tubbo, offering him a grin. “Next time, Big Man.” He promises, and Tubbo gives him a slight smile, standing up and working on putting his apron on again. 

They wait a little while longer for the cookies to cool, but once they're done, they get some plates and begin decorating them. They start by putting genuine effort into the decoration- they color some of the sleighs red, and add red noses to some of the reindeer, but then Tubbo uses red for one of the gingerbread man's eyes, holding it up to Tommy and exclaiming, "Look, he's high!", and pretty much everything after that looks absolutely ridiculous. They laugh as they try and outdo each other for the most horrible looking cookie, Tommy even going so far as to bite all the legs off one of the reindeer cookies. 

Tubbo lets out a shocked laugh at the sight of it, curling over the counter as Tommy grins. "He don't got no legs, Tubbo." He says, holding the cookie in front of his head, smirking at his friend. Tubbo sits up, his mouth covered by the back of his hand, though Tommy can still see his smile poking past his fingers. 

"Mm, tasty." Tubbo adds, putting on a similar voice to Tommy's, and it catches him so off guard that he nearly howls with laughter. The two of them devolve into a giggling mess, faces red as they gasp for breath. When they're worn out, lungs aching, Tubbo looks at him with a shaky smile. "I think I really like baking." He decides, and Tommy smiles so wide his cheeks hurt. Wilbur and Techno come down eventually, and when they question Phil as to why the house smells so good, he informs them about the Christmas cookies. The second Techno grabs a snowman cookie with two massive globs of frosting on it's center, Tommy and Tubbo burst out into laughter again.

The evening is full of laughter, and when dinner's done, Phil instructs his boys to go get ready. He does the dishes while Tommy pulls Tubbo excitedly up the stairs. He goes immediately to his closet the second he enters his room, finding his coat and red scarf. "What's going on? Where are we going?" Tubbo asks, head cocked slightly to the side as he sits on Tommy's bed. Tommy grins as he turns.

"We're gonna go look at the lights. I saw them putting 'em up yesterday. It's gonna look really good." He explains. He walks over to the bed, grabbing the stuffed bee from where it rests against his pillow. Tubbo glances between it and Tommy's face as Tommy stuffs it underneath his arm. "You're coming with us, you know." He says, amused, and Tubbo's eyebrows raise. 

"I-I am?" 

"Of course you are. It's a family tradition." He says, and Tubbo smiles a little, light and awed. It falls a second or two after though, his lips pulling into a small frown as his brows furrow. 

"Won't I get sick again?" He asks, and Tommy thinks on that for a moment. Tubbo being sick means he might disappear, and for good this time. And, considering how Tommy immediately feels sick to his stomach at the mere thought of that, that isn't a good thing. 

"It isn't snowing anymore, so it shouldn't be as cold." He reasons, and then, a little quieter, "If you feel cold though, just tell me. I promise we'll head right back to the car." 

Tubbo nods at that, and the two of them head downstairs. Techno calls shotgun before they hop in the car, leaving Wilbur, Tommy, and Tubbo to the backseat. Despite the fact Tubbo turned invisible, Tommy lets him have the window seat. They drive out, listening to Christmas songs as they head into town. It isn't too long of a drive, but the roads are crowded with people who apparently have the same tradition. It isn't much of a loss though. It just means they get to look at the lights decorating the neighborhood entries, as well as the lights in a few peoples' yards.

When they finally arrive at the shopping area, it's completely lit up. White lights wrap around the trunks of trees, winding up into some of the branches. Wire snowflakes hang off of some of the streetlights. Store display windows have different colored lights, cotton snow littered at the bases of clothes mannequins. It's difficult, but they manage to find a place to park as someone pulls out from the spot. They quickly pull in, and then hop out of the car. The area around them is cold, nipping at the tips of Tommy's ears, but with how beautiful the decorations are, it's worth it.

Still, as Wilbur, Phil, and Techno try and decide which direction to walk in, Tommy adjusts his hold on the stuffed bee. He puts it between his chest and his jacket, letting it's face poke out from the neck. If he keeps his hands in his pockets, he can hold it up without having to worry about it falling every few steps. Once he's done, he looks to Tubbo. The boy's staring at one of the window displays, the white lights from inside making him slightly more transparent than usual. "You aren't too cold, are you?" Tommy asks quietly, and Tubbo turns around, smiling as he shakes his head. 

"I'm not. Don't worry." He assures. Tommy nods, just as Phil tells them to follow him. They begin their walk, with Tommy and Tubbo sticking close together. They stop at a few of the different displays, a nice looking coffee shop having a whole miniature town set up in the window. They briefly step inside so that they can all get drinks, the warmth providing a brief reprieve from the cold December air. Phil, Techno, and Wilbur all order coffees, while Tommy grimaces at the offer, and instead orders a hot chocolate. They sit at a table while they wait, and Tommy and Tubbo stand over by the train display. 

Their number is called after a few minutes, and once they get their drinks, they head outside. The drink warms Tommy's hands and burns his tongue. He keeps one hand in his pocket so that the stuffed bee doesn't fall down the front of his jacket. As they go, they pass by multiple other families and couples, all taking a stroll through the shopping area. The air is filled with pleasant conversations about visiting families and excitement for the holiday to come. 

When they arrive at the end of the road, they see multiple families standing around the base of an absolutely massive fake tree. It's decorated with different bobbles and charms, multicolored lights wrapping from the base all the way to the top. They meet at a massive glowing star, with white lights extending from it to a few poles nearby. Tommy can't help but stare, and as his eyes reach the top of the tree, his eyes widen at the sight of the hundreds of stars littering the sky. "Come on, let's get a picture." Phil says, resulting in a groan from Techno and an enthusiastic cheer from Wil. The three of them begin to walk, and Tommy's about to do the same, until he turns and sees Tubbo standing still.

He's frozen in place, eyes wide and mouth agape as he stares at the tree in awe. The multicolored lights illuminate him as they shine through, surrounding and passing through him in an incredible glow. The red lights make the red of his cheeks and the scarring on the side of his face more vibrant, while the green lights up his shirt in vibrant color. His eyes are almost electric blue, shining in an array of colors. It's beautiful, and Tommy can't help but stare. Which makes it really bad when Tubbo's attention snaps back to him. "Y-You coming?" He asks, his voice stuttering in a way he'll blame on the cold. Tubbo smiles excitedly, nodding, and the two of them catch up with the others. 

They manage to join the others just as Phil manages to convince someone to take a picture of all of them, and as they pose at the base of the tree, Tommy quickly pulls the stuffed bee out from his jacket. He smiles widely at the camera, holding the bee at his side for the picture. They get handed the camera back, looking at the picture. It's almost sickeningly sweet, though it would be more so if Tubbo had actually appeared on camera. Instead, in his place, is the stuffed bee, held in Tommy's arms. 

The five of them return to the car not too long after that, driving their way back home. The car ride is soothing, and as they return home late into the night, Tommy has to wake himself up just enough to go back to his room. He wishes his family a good night and a merry Christmas, trudging up to his room half asleep. He flops onto his bed, kicking himself underneath the covers. In no time at all, he falls fast asleep.

He wakes up drowsily the next morning, yawning as he sits up in bed. It isn't until a few seconds after he wakes up that he realizes the day. When he does, he grins excitedly, moving to shake Tubbo awake. "Tubbo, wake up," He urges, voice caught somewhere between a whisper and a yell. His hand passes completely through Tubbo, but his words cause the boy to groan and stir. "Tubbo, it's _Christmas."_

Tubbo wakes up shortly after that, a tired smile on his face as he looks at him. "Merry Christmas, Tommy." He greets, voice still sluggish with sleep. 

"Come on, we should go downstairs." He urges, receiving a mumbled sound of agreement. Tommy heads downstairs with Tubbo stumbling in tow. Once they reach the living room, Tommy grins at the sight of various presents set in the corner of the room. Phil's seated on the couch, and he looks to the stairs once he hears Tommy come down. "Merry Christmas, Phil." He greets, earning a smile. When they walk into the living room, Tommy sits on the floor, back to the bottom of the couch. Tubbo, meanwhile, curls up in the corner of the couch, still a little bit sleepy.

A few minutes go by, and one at a time, Wilbur and Techno join them. Techno's hair is a mess, still pulled back in the ponytail from last night, with several strands pouring out. He's wearing his square glasses instead of his contacts, and when Wil joins, he's in a similar condition. He's wearing his circular rimmed glasses, and his hair's a mess, though it's not long enough to look like a total rats' nest. Wilbur sits at Phil's other side while Techno goes to the kitchen to pour himself a cup of coffee, and when he comes back, they begin handing out and unwrapping gifts.

Techno manages to unwrap the lightsaber early, grinning as he pulls it out from the box. His eyebrows raise as it lights up, casting a red glow across his face. "Thanks, Tommy." He says, a smug smile on his face as he hits him on the head with it. Tommy sighs, rubbing the back of his head as he looks back at Techno.

"Please tell me you're not going to keep doing that." He asks, voice a slightly annoyed mutter. Techno grins at him mercilessly. 

"Why wouldn't I?"

Tommy groans at the answer, and quickly scoots to where he hopes he's out of Techno's range. The next present he grabs is for himself, from Wilbur, so he opens it up. Inside is a small Minecraft jukebox, with a little handle on the side. Curious, he winds it up, eyes widening as the song Cat plays from it. He absolutely loves it, and he waits until the rest of the song plays out before he moves on to the next gifts. Phil gets a few Dad themed items, various shirts that he snickers at. Wilbur gets a children's piano toy that's shaped like a cat, his face absolutely lighting up as he presses one of the keys, resulting in a pitched meow. 

As they keep going through the presents, Tommy can't help but notice the distant look on Tubbo's face as he watches them. He makes sure, then, to look around until he finds his present, smiling as he hands the bag to him. Tubbo almost looks confused when Tommy sets it in front of him, until his eyes widen with surprise. "Is this- Is that one for me?" He asks, and Tommy nods. His mouth hangs agape as he opens the bag, a small gasp leaving him as he pulls out the ukulele. He stares at it for a second, completely speechless.

"It should be lighter than Wilbur's guitar." Tommy explains. He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, watching as Tubbo turns the instrument over in his hands. He strums it, fingers playing some chord, and Tommy adds, “And now you don’t have to borrow Wil’s. This one’s yours.” He’s quickly enveloped in a tight hug, the ukulele left sitting on the couch. 

"Thank you so much." Tubbo murmurs. When he pulls back, he's got a shaky smile on his face and tears brimming in his eyes. The sight makes Tommy laugh a little, soft and gentle. 

"Come on, now. What are you crying for?" He asks softly, and Tubbo laughs a little at that, his voice strained. He wipes at his eyes and swallows, trying to calm himself down as best he can.

"I just... I really wasn't expecting to get _anything,_ really." He murmurs. He isn't quite making eye contact. He waits until he's less emotional to do that, blinking away tears until the smile on his face is more stable. When he does look up, he's absolutely beaming at him, wide grin pushing his cheeks up to his eyes. "Thank you so much, Tommy."

They don't mention it as they go through the remaining presents. It isn't the only present Tubbo gets, though. A few videogames are gifted to him specifically- ones he can play on the television. He also gets a bundle of Christmas lights from Wilbur, who explains that they're for decorating the tree house when spring comes. Techno gets a stuffed Ravager, and Tommy gets a sewing machine- something he absolutely gapes at upon unboxing. When they're done opening the presents, they bring the gifts up to their rooms, and come back down for a large breakfast. They use the remaining waffle batter to make waffles while Phil cooks some sausage with breakfast. The eat huddled up in the living room, watching a Christmas special. 

Techno shoves Tommy's head forwards as he walks up to the fireplace, getting a fire started for them. The living room grows warm and cozy, the smell of burning wood filling the air. The logs crackle pleasantly, popping every now and then. It's absolutely wonderful, and Tommy doesn't think he could have asked for a better Christmas.

The rest of the day is spent lazily sitting in the living room or playing with different gifts upstairs. Tubbo wastes no time in peeling off the vinyl stickers, placing them at different spots on the ukulele. Turns out, he's actually pretty damn good at it, playing a pleasant tune as Tommy figures out how to get the sewing machine working. When he does, he decides to resew the new L'manburgh flag so that way it's in better condition when they hang it up in the spring. 

Dinner that night is special. It's served with a sparkling grape juice instead of wine, and afterwards, they have a nice cake for dessert. They decide to leave the plates and dishes until morning, heading to bed with full stomachs and a pleasant exhaustion washing over each of them. After his shower, Tommy returns to his room and finds Tubbo already asleep on the bed. He's partly transparent, but Tommy doesn't pay it any mind. He lays himself down on the bed, hitting play on the cassette tape. As he gets comfortable, he feels Tubbo's arms wrap around him, holding him tight.

He cries again in his sleep that night, leaving wet spots on Tommy's back. They don't bring it up in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you guys enjoy! this story is so fun to write. i’ve never written anything so long in my fucking life. i really enjoy your comments, and oh my god one person drew fan art and i cannot thank you all enough for the support on this fic. if you guys have any theories, or any ideas, please, let me know!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys!!! the feedback and support im getting on this fic is incredible! i love y’all so much <3
> 
> if you want to show some support for the fic aside from comments and kudos, sharing and talking about it would mean a whole lot! not to spoil anything, but we’re almost done here, and it would be incredible if we could go out with a bang!

The time between Christmas and New Years passes like a strange fever dream. Tommy and Tubbo play some of the video games they got downstairs on the couch, trying to see how far they can get into the different ones. The Mario games are some of the more fun ones, especially Mario Kart, which results in several different yelling matches over RNG. They eat leftovers from Christmas and stay in their pajamas all day, not caring about the messy bed heads and their rapid decline into birds’ nest territory.

Their family has never done anything special for New Years. Phil makes a nice dinner, and they do dress themselves just a little nicer. They eat at the table instead of huddled up on the couch, and then, have a nice dessert. It’s a small apple pie, one that’s served with vanilla ice cream and caramel sauce on top. Tubbo helps serve it, taking them from the oven using the mitts this time. It helps distract him from the fact that as good as everything looks and smells, he isn’t able to eat it. 

Phil thanks him for the help with serving, and asks him to pass out the bowls and spoons. Tubbo does excitedly, bringing the bowls to where everyone sits around the table. He manages to do it a little quicker than he did last time. His tongue sticks out from the corner of his mouth, and his eyes never once leave the bowl as he concentrates on holding it there. He makes it to the table and sets the dessert down in front of Wilbur, and then runs excitedly back to Phil to grab the next one.

They eat dessert at the table, talking about different movies they’ve seen and different classes that are coming up soon. They don’t make any resolutions, but Phil practically begs Techno to try and get a better sleep schedule. Techno laughs in his face, but after a few minutes, assures him that he’ll try his best to not become _completely_ nocturnal. Starting tomorrow, of course. Phil lets that little addition slide; after all, the midnight fireworks are enough to keep anyone awake past twelve a.m. Once they're done with dessert, they set the dishes in the sink, and decide to watch one last movie before the New Year.

They find their places in the living room, with Tommy and Tubbo getting the couch this time. When Techno sits on the floor in front of him, Tommy grins mischievously, and lightly kicks the back of his head. "Yeah, how do you like it, bitch?" He asks, teasing, and Techno grabs his foot and looks back at him menacingly. It forces a startled laugh out of his throat, and he preemptively grabs on to the armrest. _"Hey."_ He says, voice uncertain and the word stretched out. Techno huffs a little, and Tubbo giggles at his side. Just when Tommy thinks he's gotten out of it, Techno yanks on his leg, attempting to drag him onto the floor. It results in a scared, shrill, _definitely super manly_ scream as he clutches to the armrest for dear life. 

He struggles valiantly, screaming as he kicks his leg, unable to free himself from Techno's grasp. Instead, his brother gets another hand on his leg, pulling with more leverage than before. There's a bit of laughter as Techno keeps pulling, both him and Tommy yelling about the situation. "Please- Wilbur, Tubbo, help- he's a madman, he's got a taste for blood, he's gonna fucking kill me-" Tommy rambles, barely managing to keep his grip. There's laughter from Phil as he walks in from the kitchen, watching his sons fight, and Tommy looks up, eyes wide. "Phil, help me!"

Phil chuckles, walking around the couch. "Alright, alright, settle down you two." He says, and there's a second, and Techno gives one last forceful tug, which sends Tommy to the floor. He lands on his stomach, the wind completely knocked out of him, but Techno's hands are off of him so he'll call it a victory. He gets up, fixing his shirt as he huffs, sitting down on the couch. 

"I won that one." He mutters, only for Phil to give him a look that's somewhere between disbelief and amusement. 

"Don't push it." He says, voice even, and it's enough for Tommy to nod. He gets comfortable in his spot before he can be dragged to the floor again, and Phil puts the movie on. By the time the movie is done, they’re about two hours shy of midnight, and Tommy’s absolutely exhausted. Tubbo seems to be dozing off as well, so Tommy wishes the rest of his family goodnight, and suggests the two of them go upstairs to get some sleep. Wil briefly goes to peer pressure Tommy into staying up with them, but he declines, and one look from Phil tells him that’s okay. The two of them go upstairs and to Tommy’s bed, where they curl up against the covers. Tommy hits the button on the cassette player, and the two of them fall asleep to Wilbur’s songs. 

Roughly two hours later, Tommy wakes up to the sound of fireworks. At first, he tries to ignore it, but as more and more of the loud explosions come, it becomes futile. And, maybe if he looks out his window, it won’t be a complete waste. So, he rubs his hand against his eyes and stumbles over to the window. He murmurs a somewhat annoyed ‘Happy New Year’ as he passes where Tubbo lays on his bed, and when he reaches the window, he pulls back the curtains. He manages to do it just as another rocket whistles it’s way into the night sky, exploding in a colorful mess of blue and red. He hums, keeping the curtains drawn as he walks back to the bed. He sits down on Tubbo’s side of the bed, tucked between the boy’s body and the foot of the bed. He looks out the window, watching as more fireworks go off.

Rockets are launched into the sky, some exploding like gunshots, leaving trails of red, blue, or green. Others whistle up and explode just a little quieter, fizzling with white and gold in a way that almost sounds like rain. It’s nice, if not for the fact it woke him up. “Tubbo, are you seeing this?” He asks. His voice is still muddled with sleep, and when he turns to see if the boy he’s next to is even paying attention, he notices he hasn’t moved at all. He stares for a minute, the faint light from the explosions casting awkward shadows into his room. “You’re a deep sleeper, aren’t you?” He adds. His tone is a little more amused, but no less tired. 

Another rocket whistles into the sky, exploding red and white. It goes off like a gunshot, and the light from the explosion pours into his room. Tommy’s about to go back to watching the show when he notices something in the light. He waits for another rocket to go, and as it explodes, he can see the tears sliding down Tubbo’s face a little clearer. He can see how much his friend is shaking too. He’s curled up on his side and almost trembling at the sound of every explosion. Tommy’s chest tightens at the sight, and after a moment or two, he gets up and closes the curtains to his window. His room is pitch black as he stumbles back to the bed. 

He sits down on his side, getting comfortable underneath the blankets. He blindly reaches for the cassette player, finding it and pulling it towards the bed. He settles it on the bed between them, holding his finger on the rewind button. He hits pause once he knows the tape is completely rewound, and then turns up the volume. More explosions go off, popping and cracking every few seconds. The light from them is mostly blocked out by his curtains, only giving them brief flickers of slightly-less-dark. When there’s a break in the sound, Tommy presses play, and Wilbur’s songs play much louder than he would ever set. Another firework rocket whistles into the air, and Tommy hums the tune to the song as it explodes.

The music is by no means louder than the explosions. It comes close, likely due to the proximity, but it could never completely drown them out. However, he would like to think they’re a good distraction when his friend seems to stop shaking as much. Between the volume of the tapes and the explosions in the sky, Tommy can’t sleep. So he spends his time humming and murmuring the old lyrics to his brother’s songs, until finally, he notices that the whistle of the rockets has stopped. He turns the volume down on the player, letting the rest of the tape play out as he finds his rest. 

“Did you see the fireworks last night?” Phil asks the next morning, when both he and Tubbo trudge their way downstairs for breakfast. Tommy nods, rummaging through the cupboards for some cereal while Tubbo takes his spot at the counter. The poor boy looks absolutely exhausted, resting his cheek on his palm as he sits down. 

“I don’t think I like them.” He murmurs, and Phil hums.

“They can get kind of annoying, yeah.” He agrees, and neither one of the boys bothers to correct him. Instead, Tommy fixes himself a bowl of cereal and takes his place between them, quietly having the meal. With the morning light, it’s much easier to see the scars on Tubbo’s face, despite how his palm presses against his cheek. There’s splotchy little bits of pink, spiking out from along his jaw and curling up that side of his face. Ideas come to mind, but he makes no comment on them. At least, not while he’s sitting there next to Phil, both of them tired from last night. He asks about it later that night, though, bringing it up as impersonally as he can. The question still makes Tubbo wince.

”Do you remember how you got your scars?” Tommy asks, bringing up the conversation at the time where he would usually just press play on his cassette and call it a night. He doesn’t look at Tubbo. He provides him whatever small amount of privacy he needs. 

It takes a second, but then Tubbo croaks out a quiet, “No.”

He doesn’t ask anymore. Instead, he presses play on the tape, getting comfortable in his bed. 

When school starts up again, Tommy has entirely new classes. Wilbur’s the only one with two different year long classes, music and theater. Going back to school isn’t exactly unpleasant, but after winter break, Tommy can’t say he’s thrilled. Tubbo, on the other hand, fits the bill entirely. He’s the only one fully awake the first morning back, excited for the new classes and the change of pace. While relaxing at home and playing video games all day was relaxing at first, it soon became boring. “Plus,” Tubbo says, chatting with Tommy as they walk to school. “I actually like learning. It’s the tests that are awful, and I don’t have to take them.”

Tommy recognizes a few kids from some of his previous classes, and he greets them as he enters the room. He never really talked with them, but there’s a certain un-ignorable companionship there. Luckily, it seems like none of the assholes from his third period are in any of his classes this semester. Tubbo beams the second he spots two of the classmates in his fourth period, and he nudges Tommy's arm so he can look at them. Tommy gives him a curious look, and Tubbo explains, a wide grin on his face. "I get to keep up on my drama. I thought it was gonna end on a cliffhanger."

The answer nearly makes Tommy snort, but he manages to make it nothing more than a small eyeroll. The rest of the day goes by smoothly, with little to no actual schoolwork getting done. He doesn't have any homework that night either, which gives him more time to play videogames with Tubbo. They slowly get back into the routine of going to school and coming back to do homework, spending their free time after that playing video games in the living room. It’s nice, if not a little boring.

The routine changes one day. They come home, and Phil walks out from his room rather excitedly. “Wil, I’ve got a letter for you.” He says, smiling, and Wil looks at him with a confused expression on his face. 

“What?” He asks, and Phil doesn’t specify. He gives a nod, and Wil holds his gaze for a second longer before his eyebrows raise and his eyes widen. “Where-?”

”In the kitchen.” Phil says, and excitedly, Wilbur shrugs off his backpack and rushes towards the kitchen. Tommy exchanges glances with the remainder of his family. Tubbo looks just as confused as he does, and Techno looks curious, caught somewhere between amused and disturbed by the sudden enthusiasm. Phil just smiles at them, and after a second, there’s a loud holler from the kitchen. Phil turns, a massive smile on his face. “You got in?”

”I got in!” Wilbur comes out from the kitchen shortly after, a paper in his hand. He runs up to Phil first, scooping him up in a tight hug. Phil laughs into it, his cheek squished against his face from how much he’s pulled into it. “Phil, I can’t believe it- I got in, Dad!” He rambles, absolutely beaming. 

“Got in to what?” Tommy asks. He doesn’t mean for it to come out as huffy as it does, but there’s something curling in his chest that he doesn’t like. Wilbur doesn’t seem to pick up on it, as he immediately breaks from the hug to ruffle his hair. His hand moves quick enough that it actually warms his scalp, and Tommy’s quick to grumble about it and slap Wilbur’s hand away. Tubbo snickers a little at his side, Tommy’s hair sticking out every which way and falling into his eyes. 

“I got accepted to University, Tommy.” Wilbur explains, and something in Tommy’s chest absolutely sinks.

”Ay, nice.” Techno says, and Wilbur grins so wide it looks like it should hurt.

“I wasn’t sure I was going to get accepted into their music program, since it’s competitive, but they must have liked it.” He says, and he begins to ramble about things Tommy doesn’t think he wants to listen to. He smiles for his brother, despite the cold sweat that beads in his palms. He stands there to listen to him ramble, even as he feels sick to his stomach. Techno and Phil congratulate him, they tell him he’s gonna do amazing, and Tommy does his best to stand there and nod and feel happy for his brother. Phil tells them they’re gonna order takeout for dinner that night- Wil’s choice, as a celebration. 

“I’m gonna head upstairs, if you don’t mind.” Tommy chokes out when the conversation begins to die down. “Lots of homework and all that.”

His family nods at his explanation, and he heads up, going into his room and locking the door behind him. He flops down on his bed, splaying his arms out as he groans. It’s not like he didn’t know this was coming. He’s known for a while now. But for whatever reason, he didn’t think it’d be happening so _soon._ The time between now and when Wilbur’s supposed to go seems so short now, and he feels a little frustrated at himself for not making better use of his time. Once summer ends, Wil’s off to go do his own thing; to start his own life. And Tommy’s not sure if he’s ready for that.

Up until a few years ago, he didn’t have much of a family. It was a rocky start with Phil and the others, but now, they’re the best family he could have ever asked for. The idea of Wilbur leaving him behind twists something awful in Tommy’s chest, and subconsciously, he reaches for his tape player. His hand finds the rewind button, and after a minute, the play button. He lets himself listen to Wilbur’s songs, as he imagines he’ll be doing quite a lot once his brother’s gone. A few minutes pass, leaving Tommy to deal and unpack the weird emotions as he listens to the familiar, comforting chords.

”Tommy, Phil says we’re having sushi. He wanted to know what you wanted.” Tommy looks up, scowling as he sees Tubbo has phased through his door to enter the room. The two of them lock eyes for a second, with Tubbo’s expression shifting to one of concern. Tommy groans when it does, flopping his head back on his pillow. “Are you alright?”

”Tell him I’ll have a spicy crunchy roll.” Tommy replies, hoping it’ll get Tubbo out of the room so he can be alone for a little while longer. If anything, it prolongs his stay. He grits his teeth when he feels him staring. “I’m fine, alright? Just- tell Phil what I’m having.” He repeats. He doesn’t mean for it to sound so harsh, and the guilt coils deep inside him immediately after he talks. He closes his eyes, fighting back the different overwhelming sensations before they build into a cacophony. He nearly bursts when he feels Tubbo’s colder presence next to him. Clearly, he can’t take a hint.

”Is this about Wilbur going off to university?” Tubbo asks, his voice so soft and concerned, and Tommy groans a little louder as a reply. Sometimes he wishes his friend didn’t know him so well. That way he could bottle his emotions up and choose not to acknowledge them ever. “I thought that was a good thing? He seems really happy about it. He hasn’t stopped talking about what it’ll be like.”

"It _is_ a good thing." Tommy says. It comes out choked despite himself. Tubbo gives him a second to breathe, and Tommy laughs, bitter. "He's gonna love it. He's gonna go off, meet some friends, do his music thing, and he's never gonna _fucking_ look back." The words spill out of his mouth quicker than he can stop them, and he only stops so he can suck in a well needed breath. His eyes are shut tight, but he can tell Tubbo is staring at him. It hurts. "I'm happy for him. I-I don't know why I feel like this."

There's a pause, and Tommy takes that time to try and calm himself. His heart pounds painfully against his ribs in a way he can't quite stop, pumping an awful ache throughout him. "You know he's gonna come back, right? On breaks and stuff?" Tubbo says after a moment. His voice is much too soft for anything Tommy is due, and he almost wishes his friend didn't have as much patience as he did. 

"Yeah. I do." Tommy murmurs. "But then what?" The pause hangs in the air, and he grows endlessly thankful for the music coming from his cassette tape. It makes the tension in the air a little less awkward. "He's gonna graduate, get a job, and then live off on his own in some uptown apartment or something."

"Is that a bad thing?" Tubbo asks, and Tommy doesn't feel like answering that. "Everyone does that at some point Tommy. That doesn't mean you won't get to see him ever again. It just means he'll be busier."

Tommy listens to the tape until the song ends, then murmurs, "...I'm a shit brother. What the fuck?"

He's supposed to be happy for his brother. Wil seems so excited about this, and here Tommy is, upset over something he's known was coming for a while now. Most of the frustration is gone now that he's talked it out, but the guilt has returned tenfold, weighing heavy on his chest. He hates it.

"No, you aren't." Tubbo assures, and for the first time since the boy's walked in, Tommy opens his eyes to look at him. He smiles at that, giving him a look of assurance. There's something soft and pained there, but Tubbo talks again before Tommy can linger on it. "You're just gonna miss him. And that's- that's okay. I'm sure he'd be happy you care so much."

Oh. _Oh._

"Tubbo," Tommy starts, but to be perfectly honest, he isn't sure how to handle this. So, he swallows his words and puts a grin on his face, soft and comforting like Tubbo's done for him. "Could you help me? I think- I think I have an idea for a gift." 

Tubbo's expression lights up a little at Tommy's mood shift, and he quirks a brow at him. Tommy smiles. "Sure."

It's a good distraction. Tommy searches around his room for a little bit until he finds the spare cassette player his terrible third period teacher gifted him. Tubbo gets his ukulele and Tommy explains his plan, which Tubbo nods at and eagerly agrees to help with. The two of them get set up, and Tommy pops one of the empty tapes into the new machine. They count off, and Tubbo begins playing one of Wilbur's songs on the ukulele, which Tommy sings the words to. 

They continue like this, song after song after song. When it comes up to the parts where a girl is supposed to sing, there's an awkward pause followed by immediate laughter. They debate who should sing that part, but eventually decide it should be Tommy. His cheeks go pink as he pitches up his voice, hardly able to sing the words with how much he's laughing over it. It isn't exactly a perfect tape in terms of production quality, but when they're called down for dinner that night, Tommy can't help but be proud. 

He only realizes how distracted he got when Phil hands him a spicy California roll instead of a spicy crunchy roll. He doesn’t say anything when Phil chastises him for never answering him. He wants the tape to be a surprise for when Wil’s about to head off. He and Tubbo work on it as time passes, moving on from Wilbur’s songs and instead filling the rest of the tapes with music his brother would enjoy. He picks out songs with a wonderful vibe to them, then organizes them by what order they should go in. When he’s sure he’s nailed it, Tommy sits late at night and records the new tape. He writes a name for it on the label and adds it to a bag, tucking it away in his closet so that way nobody else would find it. It’s a fun pet project, and it sparks his knack for creation. He finds joy in it as time goes on, and works his way through nearly half the tapes within a month. 

When Valentine’s Day hits, Wilbur’s bright and cheery as per usual. He’s dressed nicely, and he’s wearing his glasses instead of his contacts. His hair looks done too. Tommy isn’t the only person to notice it; Techno spots it too. “You goin’ on a hot date with your girlfriend?” He asks sarcastically, and Wil’s face dusts slightly pink at the accusation. He huffs, rolling his eyes as he goes to fix himself some breakfast.

”Niki’s not my girlfriend, Techno.” He says, and Techno hums in a way that isn’t quite an agreement. 

“Notice how I never mentioned Niki.”

”Oh, fuck off!” Wilbur groans, grabbing a granola bar and stuffing it into his backpack. Tommy breaks into a laugh and Tubbo’s eyes widen. 

“Wilbur! You never told me about Niki!” Tubbo chimes, and Tommy can’t help but laugh even louder at that. Wilbur looks a little annoyed at that, but not nearly annoyed as he would be if it were anyone else. Tubbo tests that line a little as he wiggles his eyebrows at him. “So... who is she? What’s she like? How long has this been going on?”

Wilbur sighs, clearly flustered by the whole ordeal. “She’s a girl in my drama class. A foreign exchange student from Germany.” He starts, and then, after a moment’s hesitation, adds, “She’s really sweet.” The look on his face when he says that is full of adoration, like he’s absolutely melting at the thought of her. Tubbo coos at the sight of it, while Tommy puts a grimace on his face.

”Gross. Absolutely disgusting.” He comments, as Techno grins at his side.

”Truly abhorrent.”

Wilbur groans. “You two are fucking awful.” He says, rolling his eyes. Tubbo beams at him. 

“Well I think it’s adorable!” He chimes, and somehow, that makes Wilbur groan even louder. Tommy grins at him impishly, unable to help his laughter. His face is definitely close to red at this point, eyebrows furrowed with how flustered he is. His hand comes up and tugs at his bangs, making his hair just a little bit messier than it was before.

”That’s somehow worse.” He mutters, looking up and making eye contact with Tubbo. He then shifts his gaze back to his brothers. “I’m gonna go wait by the front door.” He says, and he leaves immediately after. Tommy hums, chewing a mouthful of cereal. Techno’s grinning.

”Man, I can’t believe we just bullied that man out of a room.” He muses, and Tommy very nearly chokes. The two of them go through the rest of their breakfast, and when Tommy puts his bowl in the sink, he looks up and sees Wil walking into the room with a bag. He looks just as confused as Tommy feels, brows furrowed with utter confusion. The bag is nicely set up, with tissue paper sticking out of it and a card taped to the side. 

"Who's that from?" Tommy asks, and Wilbur plucks the card from the side of the bag. A grin lights up on his face when he sees it.

"Schlatt, apparently." He muses, and Tommy's face lights up. He's not entirely sure when it started, but Wil and Schlatt have a small tradition of exchanging joke Valentine's Day gifts. It's ranged from half empty to entirely empty boxes of chocolates, cards with crass things written in them, or old spent gift cards. They're usually accompanied by a loud profession of love, always trying to outdo the other in their eccentricity, but Tommy supposes the move makes the second part a little difficult. Still, there's some success there, if the way Wilbur's face goes pink as he reads the card is any indicator.

Tommy watches with a grin on his face as Wil removes the tissue paper, and when he spots what's at the bottom of the bag, his face goes pure red and his eyes widen exponentially. "You're joking." He mutters, reaching in and lifting up a large pair of women's underwear. Tommy chokes at the sight of it, bursting out into laughter. Wil looks somewhere between horrified and endlessly entertained. He opens the card again and groans. "The sad thing is this is probably one of the better gifts."

"Why? You want a pair of ladies' underwear?" Tommy asks, wiggling his eyebrows teasingly. Wilbur rolls his eyes and hits him on the arm for that one, and honestly, yeah, that's fair. 

"No, but they came with the receipt. Meaning I can return them and get like, 20 dollars from it?"

Tommy hums, unable to keep himself from laughing at the absurdity of it. "It also means you'll have to walk into a lingerie shop to return them." He points out, and Wil's eyes widen at that little realization, his face going bright red as he groans. Tubbo laughs a little at the gift, and Wil doesn't say another word as he walks back up the stairs, putting the gift away where he won't have to look at it anymore. 

The rest of the morning passes fairly easily, with Tubbo taking great interest in the different gifts exchanged around the school too. The morning starts off rather tame, with girls being given flowers, bears, balloons and sometimes chocolates, and by ten thirty in the morning it progresses to people basically having sex in the corridor. They aren’t really, but the teenage sexual tension in one of the hallways forces Tommy to turn right back around. He’d rather be late than walk through any of that mess.

To Tubbo’s absolute delight, the two kids in his fourth period who have had ongoing drama for a over a full semester are staring into each other’s eyes lovingly when they enter the classroom. Tommy can’t help but gape at it while Tubbo nearly falls onto the floor with laughter. That class period is pretty interesting, and Tommy’s relieved once it ends. He’s not sure if he could have tolerated Tubbo’s gossipy whispers any longer than the hour and thirty five minute period. 

When school is over, Tommy walks out to the front of the building to meet up with his brothers. Surprisingly, Techno’s there first, and the two of them are left to wait for Wilbur. It’s pretty cold outside, and it gets to the point where Tommy contemplates walking back into the building for warmth. He’s just about to propose the idea to Techno when he spots Wilbur leaving, a dejected look on his face as he joins them. “Sorry I was late.” He murmurs, and Tommy shoots Techno a curious glance. 

“No problem man. Let’s just get home.” Techno says, and Tommy agrees. Wilbur just gives them a nod, and not a word is exchanged throughout the entire walk home. When they get home, Wil simply heads upstairs and into his room. Tommy watches him as he goes, then turns his head to Techno. 

“Should we check in on him?” He asks, and Techno shakes his head.

”Nah. You know how he gets sometimes.” Tommy nods, and the two of them set out to do their own things. Tommy goes up to his room and starts working on homework, while Tubbo joins him. He manages to get a good bit of it done before he hears loud guitar music through the walls. The sound catches his attention, halting his work entirely as he looks up. He almost thinks it’s a new song before Wilbur strikes an awful chord and swears loudly, the music coming to an abrupt stop. He winces, then, and tries his best to get back to work. The guitar music picks up again after a few seconds, returning with the same upset vigor it had before. It distracts Tommy entirely, and he sighs. It’s a Friday, he can afford to put this off until Sunday. Not like he’s got anything better to do. 

“I’m gonna go see what his deal is.” Tommy murmurs, and Tubbo gives him a nod as he gets up from his spot on the bed. He leaves his room and walks until he’s outside Wilbur’s door, hearing the quick and careless chords at a louder volume. He swears under his breath and briefly hesitates walking back to his room and suggesting sound proofing to Phil. But, with a sharp inhale, he raises his hand and knocks once, then twice more on the door. The music stops. “Wilbur, can you open the door? I want to talk.” He calls. He waits a second, and he’s given no reply. He opts to try again. “I promise I won’t make fun of you. Just, please let me in.”

There’s another second, and Tommy thinks maybe he’s overstepping his boundaries and should just try his best to ignore Wilbur’s stressed out guitar playing, but the door opens. His older brother has a plaster thin grin on his face, and his hair looks like an absolute mess. His cheeks are pink, though Tommy’s not sure what to accredit that to. “Tommy!” He chimes, voice slightly strained as he loops an arm around him. It pulls on his neck and tugs him into the room, causing him to yelp at the sudden action. Oh god, he’s finally gone insane, hasn’t he-?

”Wilbur, are you- are you alright?” He asks, and Wilbur pulls away from the hug. He’s grinning like a madman, with an almost pained look in his eyes. It’s a little disturbing. 

"Oh, I'm fine." Wilbur assures, and the crack in his voice tells Tommy that it's complete bullshit. He feels a little frustrated at his blatant dishonesty, but sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. Right. _Patience._

"Is this about Niki?" Tommy asks, and Wilbur's expression absolutely drops. He looks _wrecked._ "I thought you two weren't dating?" Wil sighs, taking a few steps back before flopping back on his bed in a way Tommy knows all too well. He groans.

"We _aren't."_ He confirms, and Tommy's confused for a second before it clicks. _Oh._

"Well that sucks." He says, and Wil groans again. Shit, he's not good at this, is he? He stands there awkwardly for a second, before he sits down on the bed. Wilbur doesn't move to look at him, and instead keeps his gaze fixed on the ceiling. "But it happens, right? Other fish in the sea and all that." Wil hums, but other than that, he receives no acknowledgement. Tommy sighs, unsure of how to really cheer Wil up. Techno's right- when he gets into one of his moods, he's truly a pain to deal with. 

The tension grows gradually in the room, allowing Tommy just enough time to piece together _something,_ so he isn't grasping at straws when he does finally speak. "You're a bang up guy, Wil. There's other people out there. Girls- or guys -who'll love your stupid hair and glasses and shit. You're a good fella." He says, and this time, Wil does genuinely smile at that. It's a small little thing, a slight quirk of his lips, but it's the first genuine thing Tommy's seen since they started talking. 

"Thanks, Tommy." He murmurs, and Tommy nods. There's another small silence between them, before Wil lets out a long, drawn out sigh. "It still hurts, though."

"Yeah, that'll happen." Tommy answers, a slight smile on his own face. Wilbur chuckles a little at the response.

"Since when did you get so mature?" He muses, and Tommy makes a show of twisting his expression into one of pure disgust. 

"I'll make you fuckin' eat those words." Wilbur laughs at him, loud and bubbly in a way that's pure and unrestrained. Despite his best efforts, Tommy's expression cracks, and he breaks out into a wide grin. He doesn't quite calm down after. His grin still stretches high up his cheeks, almost to the point of aching, forming crinkles in the corners of his eyes. 

Tommy sticks around for a little while longer, merely spending time with his brother. They don't talk, they simply sit there together, and that's enough. Tommy heads back to his room at some point, and when he enters, Tubbo looks up from where he's been jotting notes down on a spare sheet of paper. "So, how'd it go?" He asks, curious.

"Good, I think." The words come out on an exhale, and Tubbo smiles at him gently.

"Good. 'Cause I kinda need you to double check this for me. I've just been guessing this whole time." Tubbo says, and Tommy chuckles a little, moving so he's sat on the bed next to his friend. He's handed the paper, and he reads it over, eyes widening not even a paragraph in. 

"Well, looks like you're out of luck. I have no idea what this says either."

When dinner comes, Wil looks to be in a much better mood. Phil brings up the fact they're going to do karaoke after dinner, which raises some eyebrows around the table. "C'mon, it'll be fun." He urges, and to most everyone's surprise, Techno gives a small shrug at he suggestion.

"Sure, I'm up for it."

 _"Technoblade."_ Wilbur says, voice almost coming out as a gasp. Techno gives him a look, eyebrow quirked and lips pulled into a line of indifference. Wil grins at him once he gets over his shock, then nods in agreement. Tommy scoffs, though he can't quite hide the smile on his face.

"You're not gonna get me to sing, but I'll gladly watch you all embarrass yourselves."

When they finish up, Tommy does the dishes while Phil gets everything set up. They don't exactly have a karaoke set up, but they do have a laptop and access to YouTube, so it's functional. Wilbur's helping open up tabs with different songs, while Techno lingers in the dining room with Tommy and Tubbo. With the water running and the distance between them, Tommy's sure the other two are out of earshot. He looks up at Techno. "I thought you hated karaoke?" He asks, head tilted slightly to the side. Techno nods.

"I do. But Wil enjoys it."

"That's sweet," Tommy muses, chuckling a little at the grumbly sound that Techno makes in response. He's just about done with the dishes when he thinks of something, his eyes widening as the realization strikes him. "Shit- Techno, tell them not to start until I come back down, alright?" Tommy asks, and he hardly waits for Techno's reply before he dries his hands and bolts up the stairs. He goes up to his room and rushes to his closet, immediately searching for the new cassette player, along with an empty tape. He finds one after a few seconds, grinning as he pops it in the player and puts everything back. He goes back down the stairs, closing his door behind him. 

"Tommy! Were you trying to escape karaoke?" Wilbur asks, gasping loudly in a fake accusation. Tommy rolls his eyes, walking over to the couch and sitting down. 

"No, of course not. Just had to get something to record this shit show." He explains, grinning as he wiggles the tape for emphasis. Wil's eyes follow the movement, and his rolls his eyes, turning on his heel so that way he can get the karaoke started up. The laptop is hooked up to a bluetooth speaker, and when the music starts, Tommy presses the record button on the tape. 

Wilbur starts them out, and then he drags Techno into it. Techno participates with a roll of his eyes and mostly mumbled lyrics, to which Phil hollers and tries encouraging him to be louder. Techno's face dusts pink as he starts singing just a little louder, resulting in a round of cheers from their audience. Phil does a song or two as well, stopping halfway through to tell off his sons for laughing. Wilbur finds another song on the computer, and turns to Tommy with a sadistic grin. "Your turn, Tommy!" He exclaims, and Tommy's eyes widen instantly.

"Yeah, no thanks," He says, scrambling for whatever excuse he can grab. "I have to keep recording."

"I can record for you." Tubbo offers, and Tommy sends him a death glare. The boy grins far too innocently at him, and Tommy can just tell it's a façade. Wilbur cheers at the offer though, so Tommy sighs, muttering curses as he hands Tubbo the cassette player. He stands up and joins Wil over by the laptop, his hair immediately getting ruffled. He pushes the hand away and huffs, eyes focusing on Tubbo and the impish grin he's being given. Tubbo wiggles the cassette player in his direction, and Tommy sighs.

The song starts up, and Tommy sings, a blush dusting over his face as he's met with overwhelming encouragement. He doesn't think he sounds that good, really, but to Wilbur that doesn't seem to matter. Wil joins in after a little bit, and that makes it easier. He sings louder as the song goes on, laughing by the end of it and looking for another song to play.

Tubbo holds on to the cassette player for the rest of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thoroughly apologize for what's going to happen in the next few chapters.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the beginning of the end

When the weather warms, the first thing Tommy does is rush upstairs to his room. He practically busts through his door and immediately gets to work, searching through his room. He finds the New L’manburgh flag, as well as the string lights Tubbo was gifted for Christmas. He immediately takes them in his arms and sets them on his bed, getting to work dumping his school supplies out from his bag. Once it’s empty, he places the lights, the stuffed bee, and the flag inside.

It’s the first day Tommy’s been able to wear shorts and a t-shirt since winter began. Which, in his book, means it’s the first day of spring. Technically, if they were to go by solstices, Tommy would still have a few days before it truly became spring. But dates are bullshit. If Tommy can wear a t-shirt and shorts without freezing his ass off, then yeah, it _counts._

When he’s got the various items tucked safely in the bag, he throws it over his shoulder and rushes back downstairs and into the kitchen. Tubbo is waiting for him at the counter, already having gotten out a bunch of different cleaning products. A good half of them aren’t even necessary, but Tommy doesn’t comment on that fact as he puts the ones he needs into the bag. The first day of spring means he’ll have to clean up the tree house, and then they can get to work on decorating. Just thinking about it has him grinning ear to ear. 

Once he’s got everything, he cups his hands to his mouth as shouts, “Phil! Tubbo and I are off to New L’manburgh! I’ll try to be back before dark!”

“Alright, stay safe. Call me if you need me to pick you up!” Phil shouts, and Tommy nods. He looks back at Tubbo one last time before the two of them make it out the door, laughing excitedly. As cozy as being cooped up inside the house has been, it’s also been so incredibly boring. They’ve missed the outside, and they’ve definitely missed the tree house. Now, with the weather beginning to warm up, they can go back without either one of them freezing to death. Or after-death, in Tubbo’s case. Tommy’s still not entirely sure what to call it. 

“Man, it’s going to be so pretty, once everything starts blooming.” Tubbo says, practically bouncing as he walks. The trees around them don’t quite have buds on them yet, but they are sprouting green ends to them. Blooming season must be only a few weeks away. “The clearing is going to be really pretty, then. There’s going to be flowers, and bees.” He muses, a wide smile on his face. Spring has definitely made him a lot more lively, and Tommy can’t help but chuckle a little at the enthusiasm. Not like he’s any better. His hands were practically shaking when he got home.

The warmth on Tommy’s skin was definitely missed in the winter months. There’s not many clouds in the sky in comparison to the typical grayish overcast. The clouds that are there are white and fluffy, and if he stares long enough, he’s sure he could pick out different shapes in them. Even when walking along the side of the road, different wild flowers have begun to pop up; buttercups and dandelions namely, but also a few small purple ones that he doesn’t know the names of. 

When they make their way to the intersection, the two of them walk into the woods, following the sound of the creek. Around the same point Tubbo drops his invisibility, Tommy can’t hear the road anymore. Instead of passing cars, all he can hear is birdsong and the occasional skittering of a recently woken squirrel. It’s absolutely beautiful, and he can’t help but smile at it. Eventually as they go, he catches the sound of the creek, following it until he reaches it’s bank. It’s much more audible now that the whole thing isn’t frozen over. While that had been impressive, it had also made their traveling much more difficult. 

Tommy has a bit more confidence now than their last visit, as he hops on to one of the rocks. It’s familiar, jumping from rock to rock, and part way through he turns to Tubbo and grins. “Come on, you pussy! Just jump on some rocks for once. Not like it’ll kill you.” He calls. Tubbo rolls his eyes a little at the comment, maybe just the slightest bit tense. Tommy doesn’t have time to question it before Tubbo backs up, getting a running start before jumping to the rock next to Tommy. He lands, but nearly falls over, his arms clutching to Tommy in an attempt to steady himself- an attempt that nearly sends them _both_ into the water. “What the fuck-?!” He yelps, trying to regain his footing on what little space he has. He comes very, very close to falling into the water- which, he realizes now is definitely still cold from winter -but Tubbo manages to grab him by the backpack and pull him back his way.

They both pant, Tubbo grinning despite the small panic. Tommy catches his breath, panting audibly while Tubbo snickers at him. “What? You scared of a little water?” Tubbo teases, and Tommy looks up at him, eyes wide and incredulous.

”It’s fucking _cold_ water! It’s not exactly a warm bath, you know.” He retorts, and Tubbo nearly snorts at the way he says it. Tommy grumbles just a little bit more, just for the show of it, and Tubbo rolls his eyes and pushes lightly on Tommy’s shoulder. It nearly sends him into the water again, and he’s quick to yelp and splay his arms out, flailing in a way that definitely shouldn’t help his balance. Tubbo nearly cackles at his misfortune. Tommy manages to not fall into the water for the second time today, breathing heavy in his chest. His friend grins at him impishly, and oh, the things he would do if his friend was fucking _corporeal._

Tubbo giggles, jumping across the rocks in a way that definitely looks more practiced than not. Hell, he pulls off a trickier jump that Tommy doesn’t think _he’d_ be able to manage, despite his longer and arguably more nimble legs. Tommy grins as he watches him go, doing his best to keep up. He hears a few frog croaks as they go, small ones in higher pitch. He tries looking for them, maybe to show it to Tubbo, but they’re hard to spot in the grass. He gives up on it when he hears Tubbo yell from up ahead, and Tommy quickly leaps to join him. His friend sounds absolutely anguished, and for a moment, Tommy’s scared something’s happened to the clearing- maybe lightning struck the tree house during a storm, destroying it. As he joins his friend’s side, though, looking out into the clearing, he sees that isn’t the case. Confused, he looks towards his friend.

”What- Tubbo, what is it? What’s wrong?” He asks, only for Tubbo to let out another loud wail. He gestures his hand out towards the clearing.

”Girlfriend’s gone!” 

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

Despite the obvious joke, Tubbo looks genuinely upset, staring out into the clearing as if their snow woman will come back any moment now. It’s a little amusing, and after there’s a slight quirk to Tubbo’s lips, Tommy lets himself smile. He recognizes a bit when he sees one. He sighs over-dramatically, attempting to rest his hand on Tubbo’s back, only for his arm to phase right through. Still, he plays it off. “She was a lovely gal, Tubbo. She’ll be missed greatly.” He says, forcing back giggles so he can keep his voice as serious as he can make it. He lets a moment of silence hang in the air, during which Tubbo sniffles for dramatic effect. “We can build a grave marker for her, if you want.” He suggests. Tubbo pauses.

”Nah, I think I’m over it.” He says, and Tommy wheezes. Tubbo grins wickedly, taking Tommy’s arm as he hops to the other side of the creek. It pulls him slightly, and he stumbles forwards a bit, chest heaving at once again almost being dragged into the water. He looks up and meets Tubbo’s gaze, a wide smile on the boy’s face. “Come on! Let’s go check it out!” He chimes, and then, when Tommy shakes his head, he adds, “We can race there.”

That sentence alone is enough to send Tommy into a full on sprint across the clearing. The grass isn’t as dry as it was before, starting to gain its greenish color. Wildflowers spring up every now and then, the same purplish ones Tommy saw on the side of the road before. And while there aren’t any leaves on the trees yet, there are several green buds, promising a gorgeous blooming season. But, most importantly of all, their tree house stays perched up in it’s tree, seemingly in good condition after months of disuse. Tommy can hear Tubbo call out for him once he starts running, and he laughs, scrambling once he reaches the ladder. He climbs up, noting the good quality of the fourth rung up, and nearly makes it entirely up the ladder before Tubbo tugs on his leg. 

One good kick is enough to shake himself free of his friend’s grasp, and finally, he’s made it into the tree house. He laughs breathily, sucking in gasps of air as he flops back onto the wood. Tubbo joins him shortly after, pouting at him as he climbs all the way up. “You cheated. You got a head start.” He says, and Tommy grins at him.

”Maybe next time you should establish some rules.” He says, and Tubbo’s eyes narrow at him.

”Maybe next time you should _wait_ a minute.” Tommy hums, his chest still heaving from how fast he ran. His legs feel like jelly, and his head feels much the same. After a second, he offers his friend a smile.

”We’ll call it a draw.” He decides, sucking in one final breath before sitting up. His head spins a little, but once he gets a clear look of the tree house, he grimaces. “Besides, we have work to do.” He says. While the tree house’s condition could definitely be worse, it isn’t exactly good either. The remainder of the autumn leaves have fallen, finding their way in through the windows and collecting in large piles around the edges of the floor. The snow and rain hasn’t done them any good either, making them more piles of mulch than piles of leaves. It’s almost reminiscent of the first time Tommy went up here, if not for the fact that the floors and walls have more of a shine to them. 

He sets down the backpack and starts to work, picking up the cold and wet leaves and chucking them out the window. Tubbo helps him, and Tommy lets himself hang back to let Tubbo do this part. No use in ruining a perfectly good shirt when he could simply let his ghost friend do it for him. If Tubbo minds that Tommy isn’t helping him here, he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he scoops up as many leaves as his energy will allow him, and pushes them out the window or through the ladder area. Each pile leaves wet spots in it’s wake, along with a thin layer of grit and dirt. As Tubbo clears away the fallen leaves, Tommy unzips the backpack, and begins working on scrubbing the floors. It’s incredibly efficient, and it only takes Tommy a few minutes after Tubbo’s done to finish scrubbing the floor clean. 

From there, they get to work on cleaning up the walls. Tubbo lays out some wood polish for the flooring, bringing an almost overwhelming pine stench to the place. Tommy pulls his shirt over his nose as he works, and once he’s done cleaning the walls, he suggests that he and Tubbo spend some time in the field. His friend agrees, and Tommy grabs his backpack, leaving the tree house for now. He’d rather not got a headache this early into their evening- especially not when there’s still so much more to be done. So, they climb down the ladder, and after Tommy washes his hands off in the _definitely-still-freezing_ river, the two of them lay down in the field and watch the clouds go by. 

The grass has definitely changed from autumn to spring. It’s not as yellow as it was. Instead, it takes a slightly greenish hue, strength building in each blade. It’s still soft, which is a pleasant surprise, but it makes the field more vibrant. As they lay down on their backs, wildflowers spring into Tubbo’s chest, unaffected by his presence. Tommy points out different clouds in the sky, and he compares them to different things. At one point there’s a cloud that looks something like a while if you turn your head a certain way, and a second later, the wind shifts, and it looks a lot more like a man’s face than a whale. Tubbo hums at Tommy’s statements, sometimes countering him and providing another description for the clouds above. Tommy thinks one looks like a cat, while Tubbo sees a dragon.

The warmth of the field settles into Tommy’s skin, and as he takes a deep breath, he smiles easily. He’s forgotten just how wonderful the field is, and he can’t wait to have the tree house fully decorated. He’s sure it’ll be just wonderful. Tommy looks to Tubbo and is about to tell him as much, when he spots the boy reaching for the grass that shoots out from his chest. He manages to move the blades of grass, and a swell of pride and déjà vu rises in him in equal parts. He grins. “You can touch it now.” He says, and Tubbo hums in acknowledgement. There’s a small amount of dissatisfaction to his expression- a slight furrow to his brows that concerns Tommy a little. 

“I can _move_ it,” Tubbo says, frowning a little as he watches the blades move. “I can’t feel it, though.” Tommy watches his hand as it moves repetitively, stroking the grass. He can’t help but feel sad about it. His friend has always said how soft the grass is, and how much he loved it. And now, even when he can move it, even when he’s gotten so much stronger, he still can’t feel it. And he probably never will. Just like how he won’t be able to eat or drink anything Phil makes for them. 

“Hey, how about we get to work on the tree house, yeah? We can start stringing up the lights if you want?” Tommy says, keeping his voice soft. Tubbo’s expression doesn’t quite change, but he does nod, and that’s a start. Tommy smiles gently, pushing himself to his feet and extending a hand to his friend. Tubbo looks at it, then to Tommy’s face, confused. Then, with some hesitance, he takes Tommy’s hand and slowly pulls himself to his feet. It’s a strange feeling of pressure against his hand, and Tommy tries his best not to move or disturb the delicate balance between them. When Tubbo’s finally on his feet, Tommy grins at him, and picks up his backpack. “Come on, let’s go. I’ll race you again if you want?”

Tubbo grins a little at that. He grins even wider when he’s the first one in the tree house, smiling smugly as Tommy climbs up the ladder. Whether he let the boy win or not is up in the air, not that he would ever say. 

Luckily, they’ve spent enough time in the field for the overwhelming pine scent to go away. Tommy almost lets out a sigh of relief. He sets his backpack down, opening it up and pulling out the string lights. For a moment he thinks they’ll be useless, until he finds the ends of them and realizes they’re solar powered. His eyes widen at the realization, and he grins, pointing that out to Tubbo. It means unless the weathering gets too bad, which it shouldn’t considering the four walls and a roof surrounding them, they should work year round. Tubbo smiles at that, thanking Wilbur for being so thoughtful. Then, he pauses, eyes wide as he stares at Tommy. “Shit- shouldn’t he be here helping us?” He asks, and Tommy shakes his head.

”Nah. I thought about that, actually- I think I want him to be here to put up the flag, but we should do everything else.” Tommy answers. Tubbo nods at that, and from there, the two of them get to work winding the lights around the base of the tree. It’s slightly difficult since there isn’t much for the lights to catch on, but if they wind it tight enough and wedge the end of the cable against the tree and the floorboards, it stays. Tubbo starts on the lower end of the tree, and he goes until he physically can’t reach anymore, and that’s when Tommy takes over. When they run out of lights, Tommy takes the end piece and ties it to the last loop around the tree, successfully putting them in place. They then work on spacing them out properly, that way they aren’t all clumped up at the bottom. 

They step back once they’re done, circling the tree once or twice to make sure the lights are all set. “We should come back at night to make sure they all work.” Tubbo comments, and Tommy nods in agreement.

”Probably not tonight though. I told Phil we’d be back before dark. Besides, we should probably figure out what other furniture we want in here.” Tommy says. Tubbo hums, then cocks his head to the side as he looks around the room. 

“What furniture _can_ we have in here?” He asks, and Tommy shrugs.

”I was thinking a chair or two, maybe a hammock. We can also get some more decorations if you want.” He suggests. Tubbo hums, and the two of them discuss possible furnishings for a bit. They’d have to account for floor space, of course, as well as figure out the width of a hammock if they were to add one. It would have to attach to the walls since there aren’t any branches or trees to hang it off of, and that would require some wood work. Tommy assures Tubbo that he can probably figure it out, and if push comes to shove, he could probably by some soft rope and figure out how to make a one. They also decide that folding chairs would probably be best in terms of seating. A beanbag could work too, but it was much more likely for them to find a lawn chair than a beanbag. 

Tubbo also suggests getting some fake leaves for the walls, supposedly to make it feel _‘more nature-y’._ Tommy laughs a little at the phrasing, but assures him that he’ll head to the craft store so they can pick some out together. They can hang them up on some of the walls, or have them come from the tree and cover the roof. If they don’t like it, they can always return it. By the time they have a good list of things to add, the temperature has gone cooler and the sun has begun to go down. Tommy sighs, relaxed as he picks his backpack up and shrugs it on his shoulders. He steps up to the window hole, watching the clearing before him.

A light breeze blows through the grass, rippling almost like a wave. It creates a soft whistle sound, one that blends with the sounds of animal calls and the creek. The birds chirp in time with the frogs when they croak, and while some would consider it quite the ruckus, Tommy can’t help but enjoy it. It’s better than the bustle of cars, he thinks. Golden light passes through the trees once more, a stunning revival after the previous grey months. It lights up the clearing and glitters on the water of the river, and Tommy is just _certain_ that it’ll look absolutely gorgeous in a few weeks. 

“You ready to go?” Tubbo asks, coming up next to him. Tommy hums, then nods his head, and from there, the two of them climb down the ladder. They avoid the rocks as they walk back along the river, eventually finding where they joined it and walking back towards the road. The sounds of birdsong and animal cries become replaced with the hum of various cars, and about thirty feet before they break the tree line, Tubbo turns himself invisible. The two of them walk in pleasant silence back home, as the sky turns from gilded orange to a beautiful purple-ish blue, staining the clouds pink and yellow. It’s unimaginably gorgeous, and as they return home, Tommy cannot wait for the rest of spring to come. 

As much as Tommy would love to go back every day, there’s the stress of midterms and homework that prevents him. He also doesn’t _completely_ want to drop his social life, so he counts playing video games with Dream and his friends as part of his schedule. Still, when Tommy has the time, one of the first things he does is ask if Phil can take him and Tubbo out shopping one weekend. He’s a little hesitant at first, but when Tommy explains that they’re gathering decorations for New L’manburgh, he becomes more than willing to drive them around. They hop in the car and Tommy gives him the location, and after that, he spends nearly the entire time talking about their ideas of how to decorate the place. 

He rambles about it quite a bit, not even stopping once they arrive at the thrift store. The only person who’s able to get a word in edgewise is Tubbo, and he simply spurs Tommy on by reminding him of different things they’re going to try and do. Phil smiles and nods for the most part, but once Tommy pauses to take a much needed breath, he expresses his thoughts on their ideas. They step out of the car and into the thrift store soon after, and Tommy and Tubbo take a look around at the different things. 

The store provides a fun sense of nostalgia for when Tommy was switching foster homes. Sure, the houses themselves may not have been the most pleasant, but he remembers sitting in the toy section for what felt like hours playing while his current foster worker picked out clothes that would end up being a bit too big on him. Similarly, Tommy finds himself bringing Tubbo to the toy section, despite it being truly unnecessary. They look through the different creepy dolls displayed on the shelf, and Tommy finds a stuffed orca among the mix. It’s dirtied and haphazardly sewn up on one side, and Tommy barely gives it a glance before he takes it in his arm and holds it at his side. He’ll have to patch it up once he gets back home. 

From there, the two of them check the small furniture section at the back. There’s old wooden chairs and couches, all things too heavy and pricey for what they’re looking for. There’s also lamps and blankets and shelves, creating a cluttered display. It looks more like people have just dumped this stuff in the corner until somebody bothers to buy it, and it makes it really difficult to sort through anything. When they meet Phil at the front of the store, the only thing they’ve purchased is the stuffed orca he found from the beginning. Phil gives him a curious look at that, mouth quirked in a grin, and Tommy explains, “It was only a dollar or two, and I thought Wil would like it.”

Phil nods his head in agreement, and the three of them head to a different store. It’s a general store, one that’s much more likely to have a hammock or something like that. It might not have the kinds of vines or leaves they want, but it should certainly have the hammock. And really, they have time- they can afford to make another stop. Tommy finds his way to the outdoors section of the store, gazing past fishing rods and tackle boxes, then basketballs and sports gear. It takes him a few minutes, but once he finds the camping section, he manages to find a few different hammocks. There’s the kind that wrap around trees- the ones that are sort of similar to bedsheets -but then, he spots one made of woven rope, and hardly even hesitates before grabbing it and taking it with him. 

Next on the list _should_ be lawn chairs, but as Tommy goes to check for them, he spots the upcoming summer display. His eyes land on a pool floaty, and he breaks out in a grin. He finds one that should be a lounge chair, and he takes that with him too. Luckily, thanks to the spring and summer sale, he manages to get both items at a more reasonable price, and he explains such to Phil as he hops back in the car. Both he and Tubbo agree that the pool floaty is a much better purchase than any lawn chairs they could have gotten. 

Their last and final stop is at the craft store. Tommy has to do a little asking around, but eventually he’s directed to the back of the store, where he finds about two aisles worth of fake plants. Some are still autumn and winter themed, but most of them are set to spring colors- warm yellows and reds, along with a few pinks and blues. Tommy searches the aisle along with Tubbo, and he tilts his head when he hears the boy gasp. He looks down the aisle and sees it: long strips of fake vines hanging along one of the back walls. They’re a deep, vibrant green, and Tommy quickly walks to Tubbo’s side. They’re surprisingly cheap, and Tommy takes a few of them down to take with him. It might not be enough to completely cover the roof or the walls, but if they string them evenly, it should look just as nice. Besides, then they might be able to hang things from them. 

The next free day Tommy has, he and Tubbo go out to the clearing. Tommy’s backpack is stuffed to the brim with supplies, a few of which he’s carrying in a grocery bag. The walk there is definitely more active than it was before, and as they walk, Tommy can spot different blossoms beginning to appear on the trees. The frogs croak a little louder when they reach the creak, and Tommy smiles at the realization that the small frogs must be getting bigger. He makes no effort to spot them this time, though, and instead pays more attention to Tubbo as the two of them hop from rock to rock. After all, the added weight of the backpack could easily throw him off, and the water isn’t _too_ warm yet.

They reach the clearing laughing and smiling, jumping to the other side of the bank. A few bees are buzzing in the field when they arrive, and Tubbo gasps at the sight, a grin stretching wide on his face to the point where it pushes his cheeks up near his eyes. They do a race then, and Tommy waits for Tubbo to explain the rules and count them down. It’s honestly a tough round, but in the end, Tubbo manages to climb the ladder quicker than him. He’s grinning wickedly when Tommy reaches the top, and the blond rolls his eyes at the sight. “I have shit in my hand- it makes it difficult to climb the ladder.” He explains, and Tubbo rolls his eyes.

”Excuses.” He teases, and Tommy levels his gaze at him, head cocking to the side.

”Do _you_ want to try holding this bag?” He asks, and Tubbo hums, still smiling like a mad man. 

“Not particularly, no. But c’mon, let’s get this place set up!” He chimes, and Tommy can’t help but shake his head, a smile slipping onto his face. He shrugs the backpack off his shoulder and unzips it, pouring out the different contents. He needed to bring a few tools of he’s going to mount the hammock to the wall, which also means Tubbo’s bee is unfortunately squished at the bottom. He takes it out almost gently, setting it somewhere in the tree where it won’t fall down. Once that’s done, he and Tubbo get to work. 

Tommy asks for Tubbo’s help in setting up the hammock, and once they get it out of the box, Tommy has Tubbo hold one side up while Tommy attaches it to the wall. Tubbo makes for an excellent assistant, his brows furrowed in concentration as Tommy screws a hook into the wall. He connects it to the end of the hammock, then starts to work on the other side, doing the same there. They adjust it a little bit, going back and forth before Tommy takes a step back. “I’m gonna test it.” He says, and Tubbo nods, watching Tommy crawl into the hammock. He goes slowly, setting himself down, but when he goes to lay down on it, the thing flips, sending him onto the floor. He groans at the same time Tubbo laughs, his hand raising up to cover his mouth as he does. Tommy huffs, bringing himself up to his feet and trying again. This time, he holds onto the mesh of rope, which only results in him landing on his back instead of his face when he flips over again. 

“Did I set it up wrong?” He asks, genuinely confused and annoyed by the whole ordeal. He gets up, brushing some of the sawdust off on his pants. Tubbo grins impishly at him.

”No, I think it’s right. You’re just bad.” He teases, and something in Tommy decides to take that as a personal offense. So, he tries again, and again, and on the last try he almost falls but manages to keep it steady. He shouts triumphantly, no matter how much Tubbo’s giggling at him like he’s an idiot.

”Yes-! I told you I could fuckin’ do it.” He cheers, grinning at Tubbo smugly. The boy merely grins in return.

”Sure. On your fourth attempt.”

Tommy doesn’t counter that one. Instead, he focuses on figuring out how to get himself _out_ of the hammock in a way that doesn’t involve him bruising his back or his ego. He eventually figures it out, standing up and planting his hands on his hips. “Well, at least we know that it can hold my weight, and probably anyone else’s.” Tommy decides. From there, Tommy gets to work unboxing the pool inflatable, while Tubbo takes a few of the vines and sets them up. He takes his time figuring out exactly how to string them, and which points he should anchor them to. They’re only using duck tape, so it’s not like it’s permanent, but it would be preferable to do it all in one go.

They don’t have an electric pump for the pool floaty, so while Tubbo’s focused on decorating, Tommy’s trying to blow it up. The whole process leaves him more than a little breathless, and at one point, he thinks he’s about to pass out. Tubbo calls for his help about halfway through, and it takes a great deal of effort not to trip over his own feet on the way over. He holds one end of the vine for him while Tubbo tapes it in place, and as Tubbo goes to do the other end, Tommy slumps his way to the floor to give himself a break. Maybe blowing up the inflatable in one go was _not_ the best idea, he decides roughly midway through his thirty minute break. Once his brain doesn’t feel like it’s spinning in his head, he sighs, walking back to the floaty and beginning to blow it up again. 

He’s left in a similar state once it’s finally blown up, and he chucks it against the wall opposite of the hammock. Tubbo looks down at him curiously, having long finished his decorations. “You done?” He asks, and Tommy breaths in soft pants, nodding. His friend smiles at him, moving to sit at his side. Things are peaceful between them, as they watch the sky turn orange. Tubbo hums. “You know, I think I remember fireflies. It’s hard to tell.” He says, his voice barely above a whisper. Tommy’s head is foggy enough to where he can’t form a coherent reply, so he merely nods, and hopes Tubbo will continue. He does. “They only come out at night, I think. I hope we get to see them.”

They sit there for a while, and Tommy finds himself unable to form words. It takes a moment for that to get Tubbo’s attention, but once it does, it captures it fully. His friend stares at him, concerned, his brows furrowed together. “Are you alright?” He asks, and Tommy nods on instinct. Clearly Tubbo doesn’t believe him, because he holds his gaze for another minute, his lips tightening in a small frown. “Do you think you can walk home?” He asks, and this time, Tommy shakes his head. Tubbo nods, then reaches for Tommy’s backpack. 

When Tommy feels he’s able to speak at least kind of well, he calls Phil and asks for a ride home. He tells the man the intersection he should pull over at, and Tubbo lets him rest just a little longer, gathering up their things. The lights wrapped around the base of the tree begin to glow with the dimming light, and Tommy can’t help but smile a little when he notices it. Once they’re all packed up, Tubbo helps Tommy down the ladder, going extremely carefully. Tommy can stand on his own, yes, but his legs are kind of shaky. He’s thankful for Tubbo’s assistance on the uneven forest floor.

Tubbo’s hands stay on him even as he turns invisible. He guides him right to Phil’s car, and the moment Tommy sits in the passenger seat, he nearly passes out. Phil looks a bit concerned, but as Tubbo appears in the back seat and explains that he simply wore himself out blowing up a pool floaty, Phil simply nods and drives them back home. One good nap later, and Tommy’s absolutely fine. Dinner is absolutely fantastic, and despite Tubbo’s offers for assistance, Tommy walks up the stairs on his own.

Midterms come up sooner rather than later, and suddenly most of Tommy’s time is consumed with studying. Due to his split focus recently with the tree house, video games, and school, his grades have been slipping just the tiniest amount. And while it isn’t horribly concerning, it would still be good not to fail a midterm. So, he and Tubbo study in the living room, taking notes and reviewing flash cards together. Tubbo takes it just as seriously as Tommy does, and is eager to help him study for his upcoming tests. When they finally arrive, Tommy is happy to say that he doesn’t use Tubbo’s assistance. In fact, before the test begins, he requests that Tubbo not help him unless he asks. There’s a good amount of confidence in him, and he finishes his tests without asking Tubbo to peek at someone’s answers. 

Testing week is absolutely brutal, but after that is the first day of spring break, and Tommy’s a bit excited. When he gets home, he greets Phil and talks about how the testing went. Phil gives him a small look when he says he didn’t have Tubbo help him, but makes no comment on his son’s supposed cheating. Instead, he asks if Tommy has any plans for the break. “Yeah- Tubbo and I should probably head to New L’manburgh to hang up the flag.” He starts, and then, he gasps, eyes widening. Phil gives him a curious look. “Okay, wait- Phil, can I- can Techno, Wilbur, Tubbo and I spend a day at the tree house? Can we sleep there?” He asks. Phil’s eyes widen at the request.

”You want to camp there?” He asks, and Tommy nods vigorously. Tubbo seems just as excited at the idea.

”Yeah! We’ve set up a hammock and a inflatable, and we can bring blankets and bug spray and all that. It’s really nice over there, and it’s really fun.” Tommy says, voice breaking out into a ramble. When he pauses to breathe, Tubbo picks up where he left off, practically bouncing on his heels.

”Phil, it’s going to be really really pretty. There’s going to be flowers, and bees, and fireflies, Phil! Can we please go camping there? Just for one night?” Tubbo practically begs, and Phil looks between the two of them, thinking it over. He doesn’t look too convinced at first, but whenever he looks back to see how excited Tommy and Tubbo look, his expression softens. 

“You’re going to have to ask your brothers.” Phil starts, and Tommy’s eyebrows raise in anticipation. Phil sighs. “But as long as they agree, and you all have your phones on you, along with some snacks and sandwiches for dinner, I suppose it’s alright. Just make sure to check the weather and see how cold it’ll get overnight.” He says, and Tommy jumps in place, grinning ear to ear. Phil can’t help but smile at his excitement as both Tubbo and Tommy rush to go find the others. It’s easy to convince Wilbur- the second they mention the tree house and hanging up the new flag, he agrees, a smile on his face at Tubbo and Tommy’s enthusiasm. Techno is just a little harder to convince, on the account that he’s mostly asleep for the entire encounter. There’s no doubt he likely pulled several all-nighters to make it through the week. So, they switch their tactic to _‘annoy him until he agrees’,_ and that works pretty well. 

Tommy checks the forecast for the upcoming week, as well as the nightly temperatures for each day. None of them get too low, and as long as they have a sleeping bag, they’ll be more than fine. When the day comes, Tommy spends the morning eagerly packing his things and grabbing anything they might need. He takes a portable charger so that way he can call Phil if needed, as well as a few waters instead of their typical sodas. He also gets the sleeping bags together, as well as a few pillows, just in case. Phil looks a little amused at the small pile he’s creating at the front door, but doesn’t say anything to stop him. Meanwhile, Tubbo gets to work in the kitchen, preparing sandwiches and snack bags for everyone. 

When Techno comes down that morning for coffee, his eyes widen at the bustling activity. “What are you two doin’?” He asks, somewhere between confused and amused. Tubbo beams at him.

”We’re preparing for the camping trip tonight!” He says. “We’re all going to spend a night in the tree house.” He explains, and for a second Techno looks confused at the term _‘all’,_ but then he remembers, eyes widening before squinting shut as he groans. Tubbo smiles devilishly at him. “You agreed to it, remember?”

”Unfortunately.” Techno doesn’t make any other comment on it, and instead works on getting himself some coffee and some breakfast. Once Tubbo’s done packing up dinner, Tommy comes in to start having breakfast. They talk excitedly about their plans for the evening, and Tommy mentions how Techno and Wil used to spar with sticks as swords. He gestures wildly throughout the story, and Techno can’t help a small smile at the retelling. Wilbur comes downstairs at some point too, spotting the small pile of things by the doorway, and hearing his brother talk loudly from the kitchen.

He joins them, standing by as they discuss their plans. They decide not to leave until an hour or two after lunch, around the time school would normally let out. That way if they get bored, it’s not like they’re stuck there for too long. At first Tommy’s upset with the delay since he’s already gotten their things together, but after some discussion, he agrees. It means he’ll get to take a shower before they spend several hours playing in the grass and sleeping in what’s essentially a shack, so he’s not gonna complain. 

When the time eventually comes for them to go, Phil insists on driving all of them to the intersection. They pile up their things in the car, and when they reach the spot, they quickly climb out. It takes a second to get everything they need, but once they do, they wave Phil goodbye and promise to call him if anything goes wrong. From there, Tommy looks back to his two brothers excitedly, and guides them through the forest. 

He gives a running commentary as they walk, telling Techno just how much bigger and prettier this clearing is in comparison to the old one. Tubbo turns visible once they can’t hear the road anymore, eagerly chiming in. Once they reach the river, Tommy briefly considers hopping from rock to rock. He decides against it due to all the things he’s carrying, and instead walks on the bank and points out which rocks he usually jumps to. Techno’s just humming every now and then in response, a fond and amused look on his face. His brother occasionally glances to Wilbur, who looks absolutely endeared by the conversation and antics. 

Not only is Tommy excited to have his brothers with him for this trip, but he's also excited because he hasn't seen New L'manburgh in at least two weeks. It makes it extra special when Tubbo's eyes light up in a way Tommy hasn't seen before, calling, "Tommy, look!"

Tommy walks to where Tubbo is standing a few feet ahead, and when he turns to face the clearing, his mouth falls agape. The grass has fully transitioned to a vibrant green, with loads of different wildflowers dotting the open field before them. The trees that lined the clearing, once barren, are now blossoming fully. Little white flowers blossom at the end of every branch, some of the petals being cast aside with the wind. And, stunningly, not only are there plenty of bumblebees buzzing around from flower to flower, but there's also a group of _deer_ standing in the field. 

It's gorgeous. 

"What is it?" Wilbur asks, and Tommy immediately shushes him so that he won't scare them away. Wil quirks a brow at him, and Tommy holds a finger to his lips, gesturing for him and Techno to come closer. They do so, approaching carefully, and their eyes widen as they spot the deer. The deer looks back at them, aware of their presence. Then, after a few seconds, it runs off, leaving the other deer to follow as it rushes off deeper into the woods. 

"I've never seen deer here before." Tubbo murmurs. The four of them are left standing there for a few moments, before Tommy breaks into a grin and turns to face them.

"Well, come on then! We should go set our stuff down." He says. The others agree, and Tommy turns to Tubbo, a grin on his face. "Race you?"

He can't even begin to count down before Tubbo breaks into a full sprint across the field. It leaves him a little flabbergasted, but he quickly gets his bearings, taking after his friend. It's a little difficult with all the things he's carrying, and when he climbs up the ladder, Tubbo is grinning at him excitedly. "Well that's not fair- that time you cheated!" Tommy shouts, and Tubbo merely laughs at him. Tommy's brows furrow a little, and he takes one of the sleeping bags and throws it through his friend, watching as Tubbo yelps and recoils as it passes right through him. 

Tommy laughs at the reaction and walks over to where the sleeping bag has landed. He picks it up, flashing Tubbo a cheeky grin as he sets it up on the hammock. It isn't too long after that both Wilbur and Techno join them in the tree house. It might be a little cramped, and there's no way Wilbur could jump without hitting his head on the ceiling, but they manage to fit. Wil's mouth falls open, awed as he takes in the various decorations he and Tubbo set up. Meanwhile, Techno's gaze falls to the pool floaty on the other side of the room. "I call dibs." Wil's eyes widen at the statement, head whipping around to watch as Techno throws his sleeping bag at the floaty.

They take their time setting up the various things they have. Tommy lays claim to the hammock, despite the multiple times he's fallen off of it. Tubbo quirks a brow at him, a smirk on his face as he watches Tommy set up the sleeping bag. "Won't you just fall again?" He asks, amused, only grinning wider when Tommy huffs and rolls his eyes. 

_"Won't you just fall again?"_ He repeats mockingly, pulling a rather loud laugh from Techno at the impersonation. Tubbo snickers at it a bit too, laughing a little louder as Tommy struggles to keep the sleeping bag in the hammock. Tommy groans. "Shut up- You're so annoying." Eventually, thank god, he manages to get the sleeping bag set up in the hammock. He grins, then turns back to his backpack, where he grabs and unfolds the New L’manburgh flag. Wil and Techno aren’t quite paying attention, so Tommy waits for a good moment before awkwardly clearing his throat. The two of them look to him, then take in the sight of the flag. Wilbur’s eyes widen at the sight, his mouth falling open in an awed smile, while Techno looks somewhere between impressed and interested. Tommy grins sheepishly at the attention. “I uh- Ive been waiting to have you all here so that way we could hang it up.” He explains. Wilbur just about _squeals._

“Tommy!” He says, voice strained as if his heart is melting. He wastes no time in walking towards him, hugging him so tightly that his arms are pinned to his sides. Tommy yelps a little at the action, then squirms, muttering a litany of curses. “Tommy that’s adorable!” He teases, and Tommy’s just about ready to fling himself out of the tree house if it means escaping this, when Wil adds, “That’s so thoughtful of you!” He stops his movements entirely after that, stilled by just how genuine it sounded. Besides, the hug is _nice,_ if not none crushingly tight. He laughs a little, unable to stop the small tilt of his lips.

”Yeah, well,” He starts, and something overwhelming twists inside of him. He doesn’t stop himself now. “It wouldn’t be L’manburgh without you guys.” He murmurs, and that time, even Techno coos from where he’s sat on the pool floaty. It makes Tommy’s face dust pink, and before he can be subjected to any teasing from his older brothers, he pushes back from the hug. “Well then! We should probably get to work hanging this up! Shouldn’t we, men?” He shouts, ears warming as he hears Tubbo snicker at the sudden change. Wil doesn’t seem to mind.

“Yeah!” He chimes. Techno smiles at them.

”You two go ahead, I’m still getting set up.” Tommy’s about to complain about Techno’s lack of participation, when Wilbur eagerly brings him around the room, discussing where it should be hung up. From there, Tommy reveals a few tools he’d stuffed into his backpack. They take a good few minutes setting up the holder for the flag, and then, Wil drags Techno out to the skirts of the clearing to look for suitable flag pole sticks. It leaves both him and Tubbo in the tree house, watching as the bees buzz about, and the gentle breeze creates motion in the tall grass. There’s an indent in part of it, where it looks as if the deer had trampled it for their rest. Tommy points it out to Tubbo, seeing the boy smile once he spots it. 

“You said you’ve never seen deer here.” Tommy says. It comes out conversationally, despite his own curiosity. Tubbo hums, nodding, but otherwise makes no comment. Tommy continues. “Do you think you remember anything else about this place?” He asks. He keeps his tone just as conversational and impersonal as before, not exactly wanting to make Tubbo uncomfortable. The boy hums again as he thinks it over, watching the different things going on in the clearing. The breeze brings flower petals across the field, and a few songbirds chirp as they fly by. 

“I remember the flowers. I think- I think I used to make chains of them?” Tubbo says after a moment. His brows furrow in concentration, and his eyes rake over the clearing, searching the tree line. Tommy follows his gaze, eyes pausing as he spots Techno and Wilbur, each with decent sized sticks in their hands. They whack them together, Techno’s stance wide and professional as he jabs the limb out in Wil’s direction. They’re both grinning, yelling and taunting each other with the same energy they had when they were little kids. The sight of it causes Tommy to breathe out a laugh, and when he shakes his head and looks back to his friend, he finds himself being stared at curiously. He smiles.

”Wil and Techno used to do that sometimes, back at the old L’manburgh,” He explains, pointing to where Techno and Wil are fighting. Tubbo follows his direction, eyes catching on the movement. “Wil and I used to go all the time, but Techno’s less outdoorsy. It was really special whenever he came with us.” As he speaks, Wilbur let’s out a battle cry, only for his stick to be thrown out of his hand and onto the ground a few feet away. Techno grins at him, smug, only to be tackled to the ground a second later, leaving the two of them wrestling in the grass. “That was fun.” Tommy murmurs. He looks back to Tubbo, and sees the boy’s brows furrowed, lips pulled in a small frown as he watches Techno and Wil. He looks dazed, almost, and it’s a little concerning. “Uh, Tubbo? You alright there?”

The boy blinks once or twice, redirecting his attention back to Tommy. “Huh- What? I’m fine, I just- I think I remember a different tree being here. Or at least somewhere nearby,” He says. The first part sounds sort of like an excuse, but Tommy doesn’t have any time to call him on it before he’s speaking again. “I think- hold on... follow me for a second, yeah?” He requests, and Tommy nods, confused. The two of them climb down the ladder, with Tommy giving a shout to Wilbur and Techno so that they know they’ve gone for a walk. When he turns back to face Tubbo, he sees the boy walking further past the tree line, and has to jog to catch up with him. He walks just behind him, letting Tubbo lead the way until eventually his eyes light up. He walks up to one of the trees- this one having yellowish flowers hanging from the ends. “Yeah! These are honeysuckles!”

Tommy hums, plucking one of the flowers from the end of one of the tree branches. “I used to drink from these all the time during the spring.” Tubbo explains, and when he looks back to Tommy, his eyes widen. “You’re supposed to drink the water that gathers in the middle bit. It’s sweet.” Tubbo explains, and Tommy’s mouth forms an ‘o’ shape as he pulls his hand back and instead tips the flower against his lips. The brunet’s gaze tracks the motion, his head cocking to the side as an amused grin slips onto his face. “Were you going to _eat_ that?”

Tommy huffs, his face flushing slightly. “I don’t know, I’ve never done this before!” He yells, and his response has Tubbo laughing quite a bit, cheeks pushing up as he does. 

“You don’t just _eat_ the flower.”

”Well I know that _now-!”_ Tubbo bursts out laughing at the exclamation. There’s no use in getting him to stop, apparently, so Tommy merely sighs and takes a drink from the honeysuckle. It only earns him about a drop, but it’s sweet, the taste filling his tongue. When he’s done, he tosses the flower aside, and reaches for another. It’s then that Tubbo shows him a trick, taking a flower himself and pulling on the end bit, which results in the drop coming out the bottom. He can’t drink it himself, which results in the tiny drop falling to the forest floor. Tommy mirrors his actions, tipping his head back as he does, and instantly he gets a more satisfying result. He sets the empty flower aside, and they decide to call it quits there, so that the tree can still have flowers. Besides, they probably need to return to the clearing before his brothers get concerned about them. 

When they enter the clearing again, Techno’s yelling and chasing after Wilbur, who no longer has a stick. The sight makes Tommy snort and shake his head. “Will you two stop being idiots for a second?” He shouts, and Tubbo laughs a little at his side. His shouting manages to get his brothers’ attention, and the two of them stop their antics. When they walk over, they almost look like guilty children, if not for the mischievous way Techno pokes Wilbur’s side without remorse. It makes the older jump, and give a playfully annoyed glance in the other’s direction. “Good, you got a stick. Now we’ve gotta hang up the flag.” Tommy says. Techno hands him the stick, which Wil looks a little relieved at. It’s a good sized stick, and it doesn’t have many twigs branching off of it. It’s sturdy, too. 

Wilbur, Tommy, and Tubbo climb up the ladder to the tree house to get the things. Tommy’s sure he could do the job by himself, but it’s always good to have an extra set of hands. And though Tubbo’s gotten quite strong, there’s always the chance all their hard work could fall right to the floor. So, he calls for Wilbur’s assistance in hanging the new flag, and requests that Techno stay on the ground to watch their placement. Tommy sticks his head out the front window to position the branch, and Techno directs him a little bit further out. From there, he grabs his tools and requests Wilbur hold the stick in place, which the taller can do with more ease than he can. From there he awkwardly ducks under his brother’s arms, fixing it so that the stick would stay in place without Wil’s arms to hold it. When he’s done, he instructs his brother to let go, which he does with some hesitance. The stick doesn’t fall.

Their next step is actually attaching the flag. Tommy hesitates on this part, holding the fabric in his hands. After a second, he turns to Tubbo, a smile on his face. “D’you think you can reach the stick?” Tommy asks. Tubbo’s eyes widen at the request, and he glances out the window, trying to figure it out. 

“I think. Maybe?”

That’s good enough. So putting up the flag becomes Tubbo’s job, the boy hanging on to the material of the flag. Tommy gives him clear instructions on how to hang it, and after a clarification or two, he watches as the ghost begins to hang the flag. The issue comes when they realize his arms might be just a little too short, but when Tubbo leans just the slightest bit further, his body passes partially through the wall. He realizes this, and takes a step or two closer, leaning through the wall so he can see what he’s doing. When he hangs it up, he pulls his head back through the wall, a grin on his face. “C’mon, let’s see what it looks like from down below!” Tommy says, and Tubbo nods eagerly.

The three of them climb down the ladder, eagerly running to Techno’s side. The gentle breeze carries the fabric, leaving it billowing outwards. It’s not the old flag design, but Tommy thinks it’s just as nice. After a moment of grinning, he gives a salute, a pose he holds until Wilbur catches his eye. Once that happens, he bursts out laughing, smiling so wide his cheeks hurt. Wil laughs as well, smiling fondly as he looks to Tubbo. “You know, you’re a permanent part of L’manburgh now.” He says, and Tubbo’s eyes widen at that before he settles into a heartfelt expression. The boy gives a matching salute, which Wilbur looks surprised at only for a second, before returning it with the same energy. 

Techno opts to relax in the tree house after that, and Wilbur decides to join. Both Tubbo and Tommy make their way to the creek, where they begin to look for frogs. Tommy manages to find one, and he chases it a good bit, until it jumps into the creek and sends water splashing onto his shoes. Tubbo laughs at that, and Tommy continues his efforts, following the sound of croaking until his eyes find a frog. He does manage to catch that one, holding the slimy thing up proudly for Tubbo to see. The boy grimaces just slightly at the sight of the large bullfrog Tommy’s managed to catch, and that’s all the incentive Tommy needs to chase the boy with it, resulting in a few panicked shouts and playful calls. They run out into the field, the frog squirming a little in Tommy’s grasp. He’s almost reached Tubbo when the frog jumps free, and Tubbo screams as the thing leaps right through him. 

It passes through with no lingering affect, stunning him still as Tommy nearly curls into a ball from laughter. He doesn’t quite crumple to the grass; he’d like to think he has a little more grace than that. Instead, he shakily sits down, each breath leaving as a puff of shaky giggles. Tubbo, once he’s calmed down from his shock, gives an exasperated sort of look before sitting down next to Tommy. It takes a while before they completely calm down, but when they do, Tommy lays on his back to watch the sky. Bees buzz around them, harmless little things that bump into the flowers before flying off again. Clouds pass in different shapes, and as time passes, the sky changes colors. Tommy’s not sure if he fell asleep or not, but when the sky is a lovely shade of orange, he turns his gaze back to Tubbo. The boy’s hands are in his lap, his gaze concentrated as he weaves together a chain of wildflowers. The gold he’s bathed in is absolutely gorgeous.

”Can you teach me how to do that?” Tubbo looks up from his work as Tommy asks the question, a small smile on his face. He nods, and leans to the side, where he plucks up a few different wildflowers. Tommy sits up as he does, and by the time he’s fully sat, Tubbo hands him a small bundle of them. Tubbo explains how he does it, and even shows Tommy how with the chain he’s currently been doing. There’s a practiced ease and finesse to how he does it, something Tommy can’t hope to replicate in a single day. By the time Tubbo’s done with his crown, Tommy’s got something that’s half falling apart and barely the length of his wrist. Tommy sees Tubbo’s finished creation and smiles a little, soft and curious. “How did you get yours to be so good?” 

“No idea,” Tubbo murmurs, and something in Tommy thinks it’s the complete and utter truth. Not in the sense that his friend spews magic from his fingertips- no, that would be just ridiculous. Instead, he thinks the boy truly has no idea how he knows how to do this. Tommy doesn’t voice this aloud, of course- Tubbo’s smiling now, and that’s not something he wants to change. “You can have mine, if you want. And I’ll take yours.” The boy suggests. Before Tommy can really oppose the suggestion, his shitty chain of flowers is taken gently from his hands, and Tubbo’s crown finds its place on Tommy’s head not long after. And despite everything in Tommy’s system telling him to take it off- that it makes him look weak or that it’s undeserved -he keeps it on. Because Tubbo smiles at him when he wears it, and it’s a feeling Tommy’s become fond of.

As the day turns to night and the golden hour fades, Tommy and Tubbo climb up the ladder to the tree house. It’s gotten kind of late, and with the dim lighting, the Christmas lights wound around the tree begin to glow. Wilbur and Techno look at them as they climb up. Their expressions are fond as they see the boys, though there’s something to Wil’s eyes that Tommy can’t place. He doesn’t acknowledge it, and instead goes to his backpack, pulling out the sandwiches they made that day. He distributed them, and the four of them sit in a circle on the floor, eating and talking. It gets dark kind of quickly, making Tommy incredibly grateful for the lights around the tree. As they talk, chatting about the day and their plans for the following morning, Tubbo gasps loudly, cutting off all conversation.

”Look!”

He points towards the open field, leaving everyone else to follow his gaze. At first, Tommy doesn’t notice anything special, until he spots the blink of a light. Then another, and another, until he comes to the realization that the field is full of fireflies. It leaves speckles of gold, glow appearing and disappearing periodically. But, the longer Tommy stares, the more apparent it is that they’re _everywhere._ “There’s so many.” He murmurs, voice barely above a whisper. In place of the bird calls, crickets have joined the symphony of the woods around them. They join in with the frogs and the creek, creating a wonderful ambiance to the scene before them. “I’ve never seen so many.”

”Me neither.” Wilbur murmurs. He looks just as floored as Tommy does, and the four of them sit in relative silence for a good while. Then, the conversation picks up again. They talk about Old L’manburgh with Tubbo, and how it was nothing more than a poorly built shack on the floor of the forest. And while Tommy takes a little offense at the mention of the shack’s quality, he can’t deny that this is far superior. Wil tells Tubbo of how they stayed late at night sometimes, but never overnight. This would be their first time staying the night at _any_ L’manburgh. Tommy gets an idea, an excited expression slipping onto his face.

”Does anyone have any scary stories?”

“Yeah. Got any ghost stories, Tubbo?” Techno asks, a teasing expression on his face as he quirks a brow at the boy. 

“You see, I’m afraid dead men tell no tales.” Tubbo says. His tone is nonchalant and confidential, like he simply _cannot_ tell them. Tommy’s brows furrow.

”Yeah, well you’re _undead,_ aren’t you?” He asks, and he isn’t expecting the way Tubbo shrugs at him. 

“Maybe, maybe. That doesn’t mean I know any stories.” 

“Have you remembered how you died yet?” Techno asks bluntly, receiving a punch to his arm from Wilbur for the remark. He laughs a little at the hit, rubbing his arm for the show of it. “What? I was messing with him. I mean if he has, that’d be cool, but-“

”I haven’t.” Tubbo says, interrupting Techno. Tommy’s eyes focus on him after that, concerned. The boy looks dejected, maybe frustrated. His eyes are narrowed at the floor, and he has that look to his face like he’s concentrating on _something._ Techno keeps speaking, and when Tommy looks back at them, he sees neither Wilbur nor Techno have come to notice.

”That’s fine too. I was just askin’. Besides, I’m sure Wil can come up with something. He’s a great story teller.” Techno says, earning a small huff from their older brother.

”Yeah, sure, Mr. Competitive-English-Class.” Wil teases, and as Techno’s mouth opens to retort that, Wil adds, “You’re what? Two for two?”

”I have a story if the two of you will shut the fuck up.” Tommy replies, earning a loud laugh from Techno. Wil seems a little huffy at being interrupted during his banter, but he quickly quiets down, looking to Tommy.

”Well, tell us your story then.” He says, and okay, Tommy might not have actually _had_ a story. He might have just wanted the two of them to shut up. But he delves right into improv, describing things in great detail and only stumbling over his words a little bit. Tubbo seems to get invested in the story along with his brothers, and that alone urges Tommy to continue. He ends up with a kind of long winded story that ends scarily enough- maybe not an actually creepy story, but it’s something. When he ends it, there’s a small silence before Techno speaks.

”Man, that was _terrible.”_

”Shut the fuck up! I’d like to see you do any better.” Tommy retorts, resulting in a laugh from Tubbo. Techno grins wickedly, shaking his head.

”Nah, I’m good. I’m actually kind of tired.” He says, and Wilbur gasps dramatically.

”Techno? _Tired?”_

”Shut up. I’m heading to bed.” Techno replies, rolling his eyes. Tommy snickers as he watches his brother lay down on the inflatable, the plastic squeaking as he gets comfortable. He pulls the sleeping bag over him, getting comfortable before supposedly closing his eyes and going to sleep. 

“I think I’m gonna go to sleep too.” Tubbo says. Tommy quirks a brow at him, but once he sees the tired look on Tubbo’s face, he nods. The boy wishes them both goodnight, and wanders to the hammock. He doesn’t sleep inside of it, but rather, on the floor next to it. Tommy watches him go, curling up on his side and facing the wall, until he’s supposedly gotten comfortable enough to go to sleep. Then, he turns his gaze to Wil, finding his brother staring at him. 

“Are you going to head to sleep as well?” He asks. Wilbur seems to think on it for a moment, then shakes his head.

”I think I’ll stay up a while longer.”

That’s how the two of them end up sitting by the ladder to the tree house, watching the fireflies blink in and out of the dark. It’s calming, sitting there and listening to the sounds around them, Techno’s light snoring joining the mix after a few minutes. The moon is only a sliver of a crescent, barely visible as it pokes out from behind the tops of the trees. Things stay quiet and peaceful for a while. That is, until Wilbur speaks. “Did you bring the tapes with you?” He asks, and Tommy shakes his head.

”Nah. I didn’t want them to get damaged while we were here.” He answers. Wilbur hums, clearly a little disappointed at that. Nothing is said for a moment, and then, Wilbur chuckles dryly.

”That’s a shame. I was going to ask if you wanted a proper recording for them.” He says, and something in Tommy’s chest tightens at the words. Any thoughts he might have are confirmed when Wilbur adds, “You don’t exactly have the best quality for the ones you have now.”

He isn’t talking about the new tapes Tommy’s making for him. He’s talking about the ones Tommy’s had before he even moved in with them. And more specifically, the one with Wilbur’s songs on it.

”You knew?” He asks, a little baffled, and Wil laughs a little. It sounds more genuine this time.

”Of course I knew. You love those things.” He sounds so soft as he speaks. Adoration and kindness spills from his voice in a way that’s almost too much for Tommy to handle. It settles deep in his chest and twists, leaving him just a little short of breath. Wilbur takes a breath. “I’m going to miss you guys.” He says, voice hardly above a whisper. His voice cracks a little as he says it, and Tommy can do no more than hum in reply. He’s not sure what’ll happened if he tries to find the words. “You know that, right?”

Tommy nods, wordless. He doesn’t look at Wilbur, despite the brief period of silence they fall into. It’s enough for him to calm down a little. Enough to tame that building emotion. “I do.” He says after a second, voice in that same hushed tone as his brother’s, if not a little more mumbled. He takes a stuttering breath and adds, “I’m- I’m gonna miss you too.” Wilbur smiles at the admission- Tommy can see it out of the corner of his eyes. It’s barely illuminated by the lights around them, but it’s there.

For now. 

He’s calmed a little now. The emotion is still there, pulling at him, but it’s not as much. It’s not as overwhelming. “Can we call?” Tommy asks, and he hates the way his voice sounds; vulnerable and nervous. He swallows, trying again. “On- On Discord. Can we call when you go off to university?” 

“Of course.” Wilbur murmurs, and Tommy can’t help the small smile that slips onto his lips. They only have a few more months, and with how quickly time has been passing, Tommy’s not sure how prepared he is. He didn’t have a family before joining these people, and now, his older brother’s leaving him. It hurts, and the long buried abandonment issues read their ugly head. But Wil’s promised to call, has said that he’ll miss him. “I’m not going away forever, you know.” He assures, and Tommy has to wipe at his eyes with the back of his arm to prevent himself from crying right then and there. He’s sure he’ll cry when Wilbur does actually leave, but for now, he has him. He’s there, and he isn’t leaving just yet. 

The two sit there in comfortable silence, working their ways down from the heavy emotion. Tommy relaxes, shoulders slumping as he comes down from the emotional high. As he does, the flower crown gets in his face, and he chuckles softly as he pulls it off his head. He holds it in his lap with a delicate touch, unsure of how exactly Tubbo even made the thing. He runs his thumb across it, squinting in the low light as he does. “Did you make that?” Wil asks, and Tommy shakes his head. 

“No, Tubbo did. He was trying to teach me how.” Tommy says. He smiles a little, unable to really stop himself. Today’s been the happiest Tommy’s ever seen him, and considering he’s gotten to spend this day with both his brothers, Tommy would call it the best day he’s had so far. Even now, as he and Wil discuss things he would have pushed away not even a year ago, Tommy considers it one of the best days of his life. 

“Do you think he’ll remember how he died?” Wilbur asks, and his voice sounds a little more apprehensive than it did before. Tommy thinks on it for a second, then hums.

”I hope he will. He seems really sad when he can’t remember things.” He says, voice turning even softer. It’s almost lost to the bustle of nighttime activity around them, but with the close proximity and small nod Wil gives, Tommy’s certain he’s heard. He pauses for a second, thinking on the events of the day, and smiles a little. “He’s been remembering more and more lately. He seems really happy when he does.”

They sit in silence for a little while longer. It’s a slow conversation, but not one that makes him feel uncomfortable or awkward. It’s the kind that comes on pleasant nights in peaceful areas, the kind of conversation that Tommy will now forever associate with this moment. A few minutes go by before Wilbur speaks again.

”He might not stick around forever, you know.”

The sentence shocks Tommy to his very core. It tightens cold in his chest, freezing him in place as he thinks of the implications of that. Tubbo’s a ghost, after all, and he’s disappeared a few times before. The memory of just how terrifying that was cuts through him like a fresh wound, striking painfully. Tubbo’s stuck around for so long- he’s helped Tommy with more than he’s deserved. The sudden fear that wracks through him has him glancing back at the boy, just to make sure- and there’s slight amount of relief he feels at seeing Tubbo still there, barely illuminated by the lights around the tree. Still, his stomach twists with a horrible sickness, one that aches in every end of his body. His thumb traces over the woven crown in his hands. 

“No, he will.”

He has to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> last chance for any theories or text analysis or any of that stuff. if y’all enjoy reading this fic, please feel free to share it with others! this work has been so much fun for me, and im so proud of it. thank you guys so much for the support, especially to the readers who have been here since the beginning. it’s been incredible.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is taking so long- this chapter was supposed to be combined with the next chapter, but it ended up being too long, so I'm splitting it. I hope you guys enjoy!

They don’t talk about it anymore. Tommy goes to sleep, tiptoeing his way around his friend so he can get to the hammock. He pauses, then, and offers the place to Wilbur. His brother gives him a look at the offer, but Tommy gives him no time to argue. He sets his sleeping bag down on the floor next to Tubbo, crawling inside and going to sleep. He closes his eyes tightly, and waits until he hears the creaking of the hammock to fall asleep. He rests at Tubbo’s side, a sickly feeling tearing him apart from the inside. 

He wakes with an uncomfortable ache in his back, Techno already packing up their things. Tommy groans, sitting up and rubbing the sore spot on the back of his head. When Techno spots him awake, he says, “I already texted Phil to come pick us up. I figured it’d be better than walking.” Tommy nods at the explanation, still incredibly groggy from the previous night. It isn’t too long after that both Wilbur and Tubbo wake up, and the four of them work on packing up their things. They’re all caught in that post-sleepover haze, and when all their things are gathered, they begin the small hike through the woods. 

Dew shines fresh on the grass in the field, glistening in the morning light. The sun has long come out, leaving the sky a pale blue. The birds chirp, but aside from that, there’s a peaceful quiet to the woods around them. Arms full, they follow the creek back. The light shines through the canopies in speckles, and when they breach the tree line, they’re left squinting at the difference in lighting. Luckily, Phil’s already there, waiting outside the car for them. He smiles once he spots them, helping them put their things in the back of the car. The four of them pile in, Techno riding shotgun once again. Tommy sits between Wilbur and Tubbo in the backseat, and as the music quietly plays on the radio, he finds himself relaxing into the more plush seating of the car. The ride home isn’t long, but Tommy just about passes out on the way there.

”I’ll get the things out of the car later.” Phil assures once they’re parked. “You all look like you deserve a rest in an actual bed.” 

None of them are about to argue with that logic, so they nod and mumble their agreeance. They each walk their way up the stairs and into their rooms, with Tubbo phasing through Tommy's door. The sight makes him chuckle, and when he spots the boy face down on his bed once he opens the door, he can't help the burst of laughter that bubbles out from his chest. The boy lets out a muffled sound at the noise, and Tommy shakes his head, quietly shutting the door behind him. He closes his curtains, making the room significantly darker. When he finally makes his way towards the bed, Tubbo's shifted a little, curled up a little more comfortably on his side. Tommy's not entirely sure if he can breathe, but if he can, Tommy's certain this position is much better than being facedown on the mattress. 

He shrugs his backpack off his shoulders, shifting it to his lap. It takes a second, but he pulls out the stuffed bee and sets the bag on the floor. From there, he makes quick work of kicking off his shoes and tucking himself underneath the covers. Once he does, Tubbo almost immediately wraps his arms around him, making a tired noise as he moves. It makes Tommy smile a little, quickly getting comfortable as he finds his rest. As much as he loves the tree house, sleeping in a bed is much more comfortable. He sleeps in until after noon. 

When he wakes, he turns and sits in his bed. Tubbo’s missing from his side, he notes as he looks to the empty spot in his bed. It turns something awful in Tommy’s stomach, his brows furrowing. It’s enough of a motivator to get him out of bed, leaving his room and heading downstairs in search of his friend. He breathes a breath of relief upon spotting Tubbo sitting on the living room couch, watching an episode of South Park on the television. Tommy heads to the kitchen, and after getting himself some food, he sits next to Tubbo on the couch so they can watch the show together. Not that Tommy’s paying much attention; the relief that’s still running through him like a drug keeps him more than a little preoccupied. 

The conversation he had with Wil the previous night doesn’t sit right with him. He’s not sure he could handle losing Tubbo. As embarrassing as it is to admit, he’s one of Tommy’s only friends. Fuck it, he’s his _best friend,_ and Tommy’s not sure what he would do without him. He’s gotten so used to him being around, to his warm smile that pushes his cheeks up near his eyes; he can’t bear to part with it. And, as a cold chill begins to seep out from his chest, he realizes it’s _worse_ than the idea of Wilbur leaving. He at least had some warning for that. He’s known his brother was going to leave for nearly a year now, and while it’s sad, he’s come to accept it. He’s going to see Wil again. He’s not sure he can say the same for Tubbo. 

The boy next to him laughs at some joke from the show, something Tommy hasn’t been paying attention to. The sound brings him out of his head; it warms his chest and seeps through him rapidly, easing the cold chill that’s settled in the palms of his hands. He smiles a little, watching as the boy’s laughs settle down into soft chuckles, smile still tugging at the corners of his lips. The expression mirrors on Tommy’s face, and he gives a small shake of his head before turning his attention to the TV. He can always deal with those thoughts later, he decides. Right now, he has Tubbo next to him, and that’s all that matters. So he sits by his side, watching the show and pushing those feelings back as far as he can get them, to be unpacked at a later date.

He assures himself, as the days slowly pass, that his newfound clinginess has nothing to do with the possibility of him leaving, and everything to do with the new amount of free time. The two of them spend their spring break playing some of the video games Tubbo got for Christmas, as well as occasionally visiting the tree house. Tommy doesn’t quite get how to make the flower chains yet, but Tubbo’s made more than enough for each member of the family. Tommy hangs on to each and every one of them; he finds an old book they don’t use anymore and presses them down to save them. It’s something he’s never done before, but something he’s more than happy to look up. 

Tommy can’t help but be a little shocked one morning when Tubbo asks him for the stuffed bee. “What? What do you need it for?” He asks, brows furrowed with confusion. It’s not that he particularly minds, but the bee is only really used for transport. Tubbo’s tether may have extended a great deal, but it’s still very much there. Tubbo looks a little sheepish at the question, avoiding eye contact and rocking back on his heels. 

“I-I just thought I’d head out somewhere with Phil.” He answers, and Tommy’s a little skeptical, but he’s not one to judge. He grabs the stuffed bee from the side of his bed, walking over to Tubbo. The boy smiles, eagerly accepting the stuffed animal. It’s a difficult process to hand it over, since Tubbo has to concentrate on where he’s holding it, but the two accomplish it easily enough. “Thanks!”

”Yeah, no problem,” Tommy says, and before Tubbo can leave the room, he asks, “Do you need me to come along? Phil can’t see you if you’re invisible.”

”No no, we figured it out! Don’t worry,” He quickly rambles out. “Well, I’m gonna head out now. I’ll be back soon.” He says, and before Tommy can even begin to indulge his curiosity, Tubbo phases through the door. The plush bee hits the wall, stuck in Tommy’s room, and he can hardly make a step towards the plush before Tubbo pokes his head back into the room and unlocks the door, opening it enough to scoop up the bee and quickly leave. It leaves Tommy standing there, eyes glued to the door as if Tubbo will poke his head through and provide him a thorough explanation. He doesn’t, of course, but Tommy can’t help but feel a little confused and concerned as he goes back to what he was doing before. The stuffed Orca he’s cleaning up for Wil is starting to look pretty good, but he needs to stuff it a bit more, as well as resew the eyes. 

He manages to accomplish all those things in record time. It would be incredible, if it isn’t for the fact that now he’s alone in the room. He sighs, setting the orca back in his closet alongside the tapes he and Tubbo have been making for Wil. From there, he stands up, wondering for a moment what he should do. He doesn’t like the quiet, and while he could always annoy Wil or Techno, neither option is really calling to him. He hasn’t talked with Wil one on one since their last conversation at the tree house, and Tommy really doesn’t want to get into all of that. So, instead, he seats himself at his computer and pulls up Minecraft, deciding to play through a few games. He sets up one of his cassettes, letting the music play as he goes through a few different mini games. It’s not exactly entertaining, but it is distracting, and that’s good enough for him. 

It’s hours before Tubbo comes back, but when he does, Tommy’s well aware of it. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t keeping an ear out for the sound of Phil’s car. He waits a second or two, and once he hears the sound of the front door open, he leaves his room. He can’t help the smile that slips onto his face when he sees Tubbo standing by the front door, partly visible with some bag in his hands. “Hey Tubbo!” Tommy chimes, and his friend jumps, bag falling right through his hands. He snickers a little, watching as Tubbo quickly picks up the bag, holding it tightly. “What’d you get?” He asks, and Tubbo’s eyes widen. 

“Er- Nothing! Just- just groceries, really.” He assures, and his answer leaves Tommy more confused than anything.

”Really?” He doesn’t miss the way Tubbo swallows before he nods. “Well, alright then. Do you and Phil need help bringing everything in?” 

“No, no- I think we’re all set,” Tubbo rambles, and at this point, Tommy can’t help the concerned pout from slipping on to his face, lips pulling in a small frown. “Actually, Phil and I were thinking of watching a movie. D’you wanna watch with us?” He asks, and Tommy nods. It makes Tubbo beam. “Great! You should pick one out on the T.V while Phil and I get everything inside!” 

Tommy holds eye contact for a moment, nowhere near satisfied with that answer. “Alright,” He murmurs, walking over to the couch and grabbing the remote. He hears an audible sigh come from his friend, and as Phil steps into the house and the front door shuts, Tommy can’t help but glance over the back of the couch. Phil hurriedly rushes towards his room, something held in his arms. “Huh. Okay then.” He mumbles, returning his attention to the T.V. He could always ask what was up with them later. Once he finds a movie that he thinks will be good for all of them, it still takes a few more minutes before both Phil and Tubbo join him. 

“Oo, good choice.” Phil says, sitting down on the couch. Tommy nods, but his attention is mostly focused on Tubbo, giving the boy a curious look as he sits down next to him. Tubbo doesn’t even look at him, eyes trained on the T.V. Tommy gives a small huff at that, pressing play on the movie. They sit there comfortably as they watch, and while Tommy’s definitely still confused as to what was going on with the two of them, the opening scenes of _Up_ take his attention easily enough. Especially about ten or so minutes into the movie, when Tommy has to fight back tears at a children’s film. 

When the movie ends, Tommy genuinely forgets to ask them why they were acting so strangely. They have dinner shortly after, and from there, the night ends normally. The next few days go by similarly, with seemingly nothing out of place. It isn’t until one of the last days of the break where something’s strange. Tommy wakes up late into the morning, sleep schedule a little messy since coming into the break. Tubbo’s missing from his side, which of course draws a bit of concern. That cold feeling begins to bloom from his chest, but like a few mornings before, he assures himself that Tubbo’s probably just downstairs playing a game or watching something on the television. He reassures himself of that like a mantra, not caring to clean up his horrible bed head as he goes down the stairs. It’s fine- surely Tubbo’s just downstairs.

Except, as he reaches the bottom, he _isn’t._ The space on the couch where Tubbo usually sits is painfully empty, and there’s nothing to indicate where he actually is. His stomach turns a little at the discovery, and that repeated mantra in his head decides to go a little bit faster. “Tubbo? Mate, where are you?” He asks, pushing his voice to be a little bit louder. It rings through the empty house, the harsh silence only increasing the cold feeling. He tries assuring himself that it’s fine, that Tubbo’s got to be somewhere, but the repeated thoughts only make him more panicked. It actually takes him a minute to realize that while Tubbo hadn’t answered him, _nobody else_ had either. Once he does realize this, he dares himself to yell out again. “Dad? Wil? Techno?”

All three cries go unanswered, and he’s not sure whether he should be relieved or panicked. Just to be certain, he approaches the front door, and one peek outside can tell him that the rest of his family has probably left. Phil’s car is absent from the driveway. He sighs, forcing himself to take a breath as he climbs back up the stairs. If Phil’s gone, it means one of two things, and right now, Tommy’s desperately hoping it isn’t the latter option. He reaches for his phone and plucks it off the charger, hastily sending a text to Phil. He doesn’t want to acknowledge the shakiness in his hands, but at the same time, he can’t be bothered to correct his spelling errors.

_To: Dadza_

_Hey, have yoi sewbn Tubbo?_

Once it’s sent, he tucks his phone between the waistband of his pajama bottoms and his waist. It’s fine- Tubbo’s probably off with Phil and the others doing some shopping or something. Tubbo hasn’t faded away since the new year, and surely he would have told Tommy if it had happened while he was asleep. Unless he didn’t know it happened, which he supposed was a possibility. The idea of that made him stop, having begun pacing after sending the text. He feels sick- like he can’t quite breathe right. He pulls out his phone again, seeing no new notifications, and opens the chat with Phil again. The man hasn’t even read his message yet. He sends another. 

_To: Dadza_

_Phil im kind of gettingr worried ovef here_

He waits a second, gripping his phone tightly, and once another minute or two passes without so much as a read receipt sent his way, he sucks in a breath and puts his phone back on his hip. He needs a distraction, and quick. Despite how he is very, very worried about the whole situation, there’s not much he can actually do about it now. Which fucking _sucks._ But at the very least he can try and do something better than just standing around feeling sick to his stomach. So, he heads back downstairs and into the kitchen to get himself some breakfast. He sits down on the couch, the space feeling much too large and empty for his liking. It’s uncomfortable, and he quickly finds himself reaching for the remote, needing something to take his mind off it. 

He switches through the channels, none of them really taking his interest until he decides to watch a cooking show. It’s not exactly his style, but fuck, it’s something. Mildly pleased with his decision, he picks up his bowl of cereal and makes an attempt to eat breakfast while watching the show. He goes throughout the entire show without feeling a buzz from his phone to indicate that Phil’s replied. Thankfully, the show has managed to calm down his panic, so he sets his bowl aside and sits through another episode. He makes it almost to the end of that one when he hears a car park outside, and eagerly, he pauses the program to cock his head towards the front door. It takes a second to unlock, but once it does, Phil’s the first inside. His eyes catch where Tommy’s seated on the couch, eyes widening a bit. “Oh, you’re up early.” He says, and Tommy’s not sure whether he wants to yell at him or not.

”Did you- Did you get my texts?” He asks instead, voice plagued with nerves. The expression on Phil’s face at the question is enough of an answer, and Tommy can’t help but feel that sickness starting to come back up. Phil steps further into the house so that the others can come in, and the wave of relief that washes over Tommy once his eyes land on Tubbo is nearly enough to kill him. “Jesus fucking Christ, don’t do that to me.” He mutters, rolling his head back against the couch. His heart is still pounding against his chest. “You fucking scared me! I thought-“ He stops, swallowing a breath and then rephrasing. “I had no idea where you all were! What the hell were you even _doing?”_ He can’t help the way his voice rises in volume, nor can he help the way it sounds strained near the end. He was worried, alright?

Phil at least has the decency to look apologetic. “Sorry, we had some groceries to run. I couldn’t check my texts because I was driving.” He explains, and honestly, that’s reasonable enough. Techno and Wil have run off to the kitchen, probably to put away the different groceries and provide them with some space. Tubbo, meanwhile, is standing awkwardly by the front door, watching the whole exchange.

”It’s alright, I guess,” He murmurs, and then he switched his gaze to Tubbo. He clears his throat a little, hoping to get rid of the awkward tension around them. It does just the opposite. “Hey, uh, do you want to watch- would you like to watch this show with me?” He asks, and he can’t help the small tint his face takes when Tubbo quirks a brow at him. 

“Are you alright?” He asks instead, and Tommy can’t help but furrow his brows.

”I’m fine; now do you want to watch the show or not?” He asks, a slight bite to his words. Despite the frustration and mild hostility, Tubbo gives a nod and moves to sit next to him on the couch. He still looks concerned, but with the amount of relief Tommy feels having his friend back by his side, he can’t be bothered. He reaches for the remote, unpausing the program. Things calm after a while, the relief hitting Tommy like a truck. He gets comfortable against the couch, and even though he can’t quite touch his best friend, it’s a near thing; their arms brush against each other, giving him cold chills. He doesn’t mind them. Not in the slightest.

Once Wil and Techno are done in the kitchen, they walk past the living room. Wil leans against the back of the couch and ruffles Tommy’s hair, while Techno comes around to the front and sits on the ground. The day passed lazily, the four of them choosing from different movies they have. They let Tommy pick more than usual, which would be fine if he actually knew what movies were good without having seen them plenty of times over. Each conversation starts friendly bickering, and at some point, they pick a movie with bad enough reviews just to make fun of it for it’s entire run time. Techno’s snarky comments and Wil’s high pitched impressions have Tommy laughing and red faced for a good bit, his cheeks hurting with how much he laughs. 

It isn’t until evening when during dinner, Phil starts bringing out presents. The rustle of bags catches Tommy’s attention, and he raises his head up from his plate, cocking it to the side. “What’s all this for?” He asks, confused, and Wilbur gives him a look from across the table. 

“Did you seriously forget it’s your birthday today?” He says, and Tommy’s jaw goes slack. Techno snickers a little to his right. In Tommy’s defense, he’d been much more concerned this morning with where the hell everyone had gone than what the date was. Not only that, but in previous foster homes, birthdays hadn’t exactly been important. Most of the time they were overlooked and forgotten whenever he moved to a new one, and on one rare occasion, he had actually moved homes _on_ his birthday. Phil comes out from the kitchen with a smile on his face, one of his hands falling on his shoulder as he sets a small sized cake down in front of him. It’s got big loopy letters that read _‘Happy Birthday Tommy!’_ along side two candles that are shaped like the numbers 1 and 7. 

Phil reaches and grabs a lighter, clicking it once before lighting each of the candles. He chuckles a little at Tommy’s continued shock, even once the candles are lit. “It’s why we’ve been heading out so much recently. This morning we had to pick up the cake.” He says, sitting down in his own chair. Something about what he says pulls at Tommy’s chest and leaves him breathless. It’s a lot, and it’s really overwhelming, especially with his entire family staring at him. The first breath he takes is a shuddering little thing, tears swelling in his eyes. He laughs, the sound choked up as he tries rubbing at his eyes to stop it. Wil quirks his head while Techno raises an eyebrow.

”Are you _crying?”_ He asks, and before Tommy can even reply, Phil speaks up. 

“Awe, mate.”

”Cringe.” Techno replies, voice evening a little. It brings another choked laugh from Tommy, this one bubbling up without restraint. It only increases at the exasperated look Phil shoots Techno across the table, until he’s just sitting there, giggling with tears running down his face. It’s an awful combination and makes breathing a little difficult. He scoots his chair back to give himself a little more room. 

“Sorry, sorry. I just- _fuck,_ man. You guys made me cry on my birthday and shit. What the hell?” He says, somewhere between stunned and giggly. He’s not even entirely sure why he’s crying, but it feels like so much. Tubbo looks at him with a kind smile, and then back to the cake. Wax has begun spilling down the sides of the candle, and to counteract that, he blows them out. Tommy snickers a little at that, and wipes at his face until there’s no more tears to shed. He then grabs a napkin to blow his nose into. It comes out a wet mess and absolutely fucking useless, which sucks, but at least he’s not having a mental breakdown at the dinner table. He scoots his chair back, clearing his throat. “Okay. I-I think I’m good. Sorry ‘bout that, I just- I wasn’t expecting anything.”

”Of course.” Phil says, smiling fondly as he picks up the lighter and lights the candles again. Tommy sits there, still wiping at his face as his family sings the stupid birthday song, and by the end of it, he sits there, thinking of a wish. It’s a silly thing to do, and he’s well aware of it, but he didn’t get to do it much when he was a kid. So, he takes full advantage of what he has now, and when he’s decided on a wish, he blows out the candles. The people around him cheer, clapping and grinning. Techno smiles.

”Finally, we can eat it. I was kinda thinkin’ it was going to be covered in wax by the time you were done.” He comments, earning a swat on the arm as Phil walks past, gathering up plates. Tommy grins, looking to Tubbo. 

“Does this mean I’m older than you now?” He asks, teasing, almost bursting at the way Tubbo’s eyebrows raise and his mouth parts.

”No, no- surely not! We’re still the same age,” He rambles, and Tommy can’t help but laugh at that. “If anything, I’m _older_ than you!”

”Is that why you’re so short?” He teases, and Tubbo smacks him on the shoulder for the comment. It doesn’t hurt all that much, it’s more so a force pushed against him. It does make him laugh though, quieting down as Phil brings out the plates and forks. Tommy gets to pick out his first piece, and he decides on one that gets a large glob of frosting. Phil gladly cuts the piece for him, setting it down in front of him before moving on to the others. Once everyone’s got a piece, they dig in. The cake is definitely good, and Tommy thinks they must have gotten it from that one bakery the next town over. That would certainly explain how long they were gone. 

Once he’s done with the first slice of cake, Phil gets up and brings the different bags on the counter to the table. The first one is from Techno, and inside is a variety of things. There’s a foam Minecraft sword, a few different sew on patches, and a gift card to a local fabric shop. Tommy grins when he pulls the sword out, flashing a devilish look before going to whack Techno on the head with it. “Revenge, bitch!” He yells, and Techno seats at the sword. He widens his eyes, leaning away from the onslaught.

”I get you a sword and this is how you repay me?!” He yells, playing along, and it makes Tommy grin. 

“Hey, you did that to me on Christmas! It’s only fair.” Tommy sets the sword down shortly after that, though he hesitates on setting it down between him and Techno. So, he switches it’s spot, and puts it between him and Tubbo. When he moves on to the next present, he finds it’s from Phil. His father smiles at him while he reaches inside. He pulls out a hoodie, one that’s styled similarly to his shirts. The hood is red as well as the sleeves, but everything else is white. And as he reaches in again, he finds a pair of quality headphones, the kind that his a microphone attached. Both gifts are very well received, and Tommy takes a second to pull the hoodie on. It looks a little ridiculous with his messed up hair and pajama bottoms, but it’s comfortable and warm, and he loves it. He sets the headphones aside for now, and reaches for one of the other bags. 

The fact there’s two of them is a little strange, but as he reads the tag on the next one, his eyes widen. “Tubbo, you got me a gift?” He asks, confused, and the boy at his side nods excitedly. The tag is his handwriting too, words scrawled with the practiced ease of a kindergartener trying their best. “How did you even-?”

”Remember when Phil and I went out?” He asks, and at his nod, Tubbo continues. “Well, we brought a sketch pad and a pen, so I could write something I saw you might like. Or, if nobody was around, I would try moving it so that way he could see!” He explains. It sounds like a load of effort, but now that it’s been explained, Tommy can’t help but feel curious for what the other could have possibly gotten him. So, he reaches inside the bag. The first thing he pulls out is a small carpet, rolled up so that way it could fit. At his confused look, Tubbo clarifies, “It’s for the tree house!”

Tommy nods at that, and from there, continues. There’s a few different sweets and snacks in there, such as a small tin of his favorite biscuits as well as a Terry’s Chocolate Orange. But, as he reaches in and pulls out the last thing, his eyes widen. The last thing in the bag is a decent sized stuffed bear, the kind you get from Build a Bear. It has a green handkerchief tied around its neck, and a red one tied along its arm. It feels kind of dumb and kiddy, but he can’t help but feel touched. As he goes to remove the red bandana, he accidentally squeezes the arm, and to his shock, a recorded voice plays out. “Hi Tommy!” The words are heavily distorted, but they’re there, in that same friendly tone Tubbo has. He removes the red scarf, tying it around his neck as he squeezes the arm again, getting the same response. 

“Is- Is it meant to be you?” Tommy asks, chuckling a little as he looks to his friend. He can’t help the laugh he gives as Tubbo nods excitedly.

”Yeah! It was Wilbur’s idea.” He says, and that little anecdote twists his chest tightly. He shoots a glance at his brother, seeing the look on his face, and he’s not sure whether to feel touched at the sentiment or so sickly and anxious and downright enraged. Because the look Wil gives him is almost pitying, a complex mix of brotherly affection and rueful sadness. It reminds him of their previous one on one conversation, and Tommy has to restrain himself from strangling him right then and there. Instead, he turns his attention back to Tubbo, listening to the boy speak. “We weren’t sure the voice thing was gonna work, and we had to be very very careful. I had to turn visible while _inside_ the machine! It was crazy! And the bandanas are supposed to be matching, since I can’t actually wear one.”

Tommy clicks his tongue. “That’s...That’s really thoughtful.” He settles on, though he can’t quite prevent his mild agitation from seeping into his voice. Tubbo’s expression falls a little at the sound, and Tommy quickly works to amend that. “I love it, thank you Tubbo.” He says, and he does his best to look happy about it. Touched, even. It must work at least a little, because Tubbo smiles again, and Tommy feels like he can move on to the next and final gift. He looks to Wilbur as he reaches inside, and when he catches sight of the expression, he has to quickly avert his gaze back to the bag. He still feels a little short of breath at the implication, and with a slight furrow to his brows, he reaches in. 

This time, he finds a few gift cards for Steam as well as the local craft store, and, just as had been in the previous bag, a stuffed bear. This one has a cute yellow cardigan, along with a deep red beanie that looks two seconds away from falling off. Tommy knows the drill by now, and he lets his hand find one of the paws and squeeze, eliciting the words, “Hey Toms. I love you. You’re the best little brother I could have ever asked for.” 

Techno huffs a little. “I’m sittin’ right here, dude.”

”Do you want a stuffed bear, Techno? I can always get you one for your birthday.” Wil coos teasingly, and Techno stares for a moment before shaking his head, a slight blush to his face.

”Nah, I’ll settle for money.”

Wil snorts at the comment, then grins, looking back to Tommy. Tommy’s eyes are trained on the bear, that horrible feeling tightening in his chest. He refuses to acknowledge it; at least, not now, not when he’s already cried in front of his family once that night. There’s no need to do it again, much less over something he’s sure isn’t going to be fixed with a simple condolence. “Do you like it? It’s so that you can still hear me while I’m off at University.” He explains, and Tommy nods, swallowing the lump that’s been growing in his throat. 

“I do- thank you, Wil.” He says, his voice soft. The others must take it as a sign of affection, but in reality, Tommy’s desperately trying to push back the wave of emotions that’s threatening to spill out. With the gifts out of the way and the rest of his family smiling, they each have one more piece of cake before cleaning up. Normally Tommy would be doing dishes that night, but since it’s his birthday and he has gifts to put away, Phil excuses him and does them himself. Tommy’s incredibly grateful for it, and he takes the gifts up to his room with Tubbo’s assistance. They go up, and while Tubbo sets the cards and the other things on Tommy’s bed, Tommy sets the bears down on his nightstand. He sighs, sitting down on the bed next to his gifts, and lets himself begin to process the emotions.

At first, Tubbo doesn’t acknowledge it. He gives him a shred of privacy, getting to work on putting the gifts in more appropriate locations, such as outside his closet door. However, once he’s done, he sits down next to him, a half raised smile tugging at his lips. “Are you alright?” He asks softly, and Tommy sucks in a breath. It comes out as a groan as he exhales, and he lets his hand come up and tug at his hair before sliding down his face. 

“Yeah, I mean...” He pauses, unsure of how to really reply. One look at his friend shows obvious concern, but enough assurance to have him feeling more comfortable. He sighs. “No, not really.” There’s a small pause, and he fidgets with the end of the hoodie he’s wearing. Tubbo doesn’t pressure him into saying anything, which he’s thankful for. It gives him room to breathe and process his own thoughts. “It’s been kind of a lot recently, and I just...” He pauses, and after a second, he continues. “Tubbo, do you want to know what I wished for?” He asks, and Tubbo quirks a brow.

”I thought they didn’t come true if you told people.” He says, confused, and Tommy considers that for a second before shaking his head. It’s all a load of childish bullshit anyways, telling his friend isn’t going to hurt anything. 

“I wished that you and I could always be together.” He says, his voice a soft murmur. He doesn’t look at his friend, and instead focused his attention on the floor. His words hang heavy in the air around them, and the silence lasts long enough to where he’s not quite sure Tubbo heard him. So, he adds, “Can you- Can you promise me? Promise that we’re going to be together?”

Looking at Tubbo now, he can see sympathy mixed with faint confusion. It makes Tommy’s chest ache in that awful way, and the weight of everything that’s happened recently sets in on his shoulders. The conversation with Wil, Tubbo’s disappearance this morning- everything. The feeling leaves his breath light, a cold chill spreading from his torso to the tips of his toes and fingers. The idea of Tubbo leaving is something Tommy doesn’t even want to consider, but with the bear sitting not even two feet away on the nightstand, the thought lingers in the back of his mind. 

“I’ll- I’ll try my best.” Tubbo assures, voice soft and murmured. Tommy nods- really that’s all either of them could hope for. All any of them could really promise. Still, Tubbo sees the slumped shoulders and murmurs, “I’m not going to leave you, Tommy. I promise.”

Tommy nods, and when they get ready to go to sleep, he curls up on his side. He doesn’t like looking at the bears, even when the room is mostly dark. So he closes his eyes tight and curls up around both Henry and the bee, while Tubbo’s arms find their way around him. It takes him a little longer to go to sleep, but with the crickets chirping and the faint sound of Wil’s songs, Tommy eventually manages to drift off. The contact from his friend is pleasant and comforting, and he can’t begin to imagine what he’d do without it. 


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chekhov’s Gun (Russian: Чеховское ружьё) is a dramatic principle that states that every element in a story must be necessary, and irrelevant elements should be removed. Elements should not appear to make "false promises" by never coming into play.

It's not too long after that day that Spring Break ends, and they go back to school. The idea of Tubbo leaving is slowly pushed to the far edges of his mind, where it's only occasionally touched upon. Not to the extent it had during the break- school is distracting enough not to let it come that far -but in the smaller moments. When Tubbo walks off to go listen or talk to someone else, a pang of mild jealousy bubbles up inside him, a clingy affection rearing it's ugly head. That's not so bad, though. The worst is when the night grows dark, and he has to squint so he can see his friend's transparent visage. When the room is so quiet his mind allows him to think on that possibility, on the idea of his friend's disappearance. Cold hands always manage to find their way around him, though, and they put him to sleep quick enough not to keep his thoughts lingering. 

They spend nearly every afternoon at New L'manburgh. They spend their time doing homework with their legs hanging off the elevated platform, joking about the different things that had happened during the day. Tubbo plays his ukulele as they sit and watch the bees, while Tommy tries his hand at weaving the wildflowers together. It doesn't matter how much time he dedicates to the practice, he can't quite seem to get it right. He ends up having to hand them off to Tubbo, who laughs at his work and smiles softly as he corrects it. 

When the weather warms and the flowers fall off the trees, leaves take their place and provide a decent amount of shade to the clearing. The gentle breeze helps against the warming temperatures, however, Tommy still makes a stop home to get a cold drink before heading out. When they're done with homework, Tommy suggests they go to the creek. He kicks off his shoes when he reaches the bank, stepping into the cooler water. He smiles, kicking water at his friend, resulting in laughter from the two of them. They skip rocks, though Tubbo has a bit of trouble with it, small pebbles phasing through his hand when he goes to throw them. 

When they're done in the creek, they lay out in the sun so that Tommy's legs have a chance to dry off before he puts his shoes on again. They stare up at the clouds, birds and bees still occasionally passing by. It's peaceful, and they come home every day relaxed and happy. 

When the week before finals comes around, it’s a bit different than before. Wil’s year long classes are coming to a close, and while other classes have multiple choice tests or essays, his theater class requires a group performance, which is held after school. His group has been working in class and at other people’s homes, but as Monday afternoon hits and Tommy gathers his things to go study in the living room with his brothers, there’s a ring at the door. Tommy gives Tubbo a curious look, especially as he hears a multitude of new voices. Curious, he opens his door a crack and yells down the stairs, “Wil, who’s at the door?”

It takes a second, and his yell is met with a little more muffled conversation, before his brother calls, “Some friends from school! We’re working on a theater project!”

Tommy nods, shutting his door and looking to Tubbo. The boy has always studied for the exams with them, but visitors would definitely ruin the experience. It would mean he wouldn’t be able to take notes or run through flash cards. Even if he was invisible, surely a pencil moving on its own would be worrisome for any house guests. And what were they supposed to say to that? ‘Sorry, we have a ghost in the house’? “Do you want to go study at the tree house? I can get a drink or two, and we can work there?” Tommy offers. 

“Yeah, that might be for the best.” Tubbo confirms, and Tommy nods, quickly gathering his things. He takes out anything that wouldn’t be of use for studying, and with the extra space he tucks the stuffed bee into the bag. When that’s all done, Tubbo turns invisible, body becoming more transparent in preparation. The two go downstairs, where Tommy sees a short blonde girl, a kid with ginger hair, and another kid with dark brown curls. They’re all seated in the living room, and Wil looks up to Tommy as he comes down.

”Heading out?” He asks, and Tommy nods, making his way to the kitchen.

”Yeah. I’m meeting up with a friend to go study.” He says. Wil nods, and Tommy opens the fridge, grabbing a soda. He then goes to the pantry to get a plastic bag, which he then fills with ice. As that is happening, he hears the group begin to talk, likely discussing their project. He turns to look at Tubbo, doing a quick double take when he notices the boy isn’t by his side, and instead, is standing near the living room. He nearly jumps out of his skin when he sees just how close the boy is to their guests, transparency indicating his invisibility to them. Still, Tommy can’t help but feel a little worried, especially when the guy with the ginger hair turns his head to look at him. Shit- he must be staring. He recognizes the guy, though, so he immediately acts on that. “You work at the pop culture shop, right?”

The guy grins and nods. “I do, yeah.”

”Cool. I went there for Christmas. My brother really likes the lightsaber,” Tommy says, trying to build a conversation. He can’t help but glance back to Tubbo every now and then, now seeing the boy standing right in front of the other brunet, head tilted to the side. It’s a little creepy, but Tommy can’t stare for too long. Not when Wil’s friends are looking at him now. “Not Wil, the other one. He’s up in his room right now.”

”Oh yeah- Tommy, this is Fundy,” Wil introduces, and at the mention of his name, the kid with ginger hair awkwardly raises a hand and flashes a smile. “Niki,” The blonde girl does the same, though her smile feels a little less tense and a little more shy. “And that’s Eret.” Wilbur finishes, and the guy with the dark curls gives a charming sort of smile.

”Hello.” He greets, and it catches Tommy off guard with just how deep his voice is. Considering the guy looks to be in either Techno or Wil’s grade, Tommy feels somewhere between impressed and maybe a little insecure. He’s clearly not the only one startled by it though- Tubbo’s eyes widen at the sound, and he jumps nearly a foot backwards. For a moment, Tommy’s concerned, but then Wil gives him a look and he realizes that he’s just been staring at an empty space for the past few seconds. He shakes his head, forcing himself to look back at the group and not at his still shell-shocked friend. He focused his attention on the girl, just to make things a little easier for himself. A mischievous grin finds itself plaster thin on his face.

”Your name’s Niki?” He asks, and already he can see Wil’s eyebrows raise and face go pink. The girl smiles, nodding.

”I am.” She answers, and the accent is definitely there. Tommy’s not entirely sure he could place it to a specific area, but it definitely isn’t British or American. 

“And you’re good friends with Wilbur, huh?” He adds, a little more teasing now. Wilbur’s face is gaining color quickly, especially as the girl stifles a series of light giggles. Tommy chuckles, grinning a little more genuinely now. “Yeah, he talks about you quite a bit.” That addition has Wil looking particularly red faced, brows drawn together in a flustered scowl. Niki coos at the statement, and Tommy can’t help but laugh as it makes everything ten times worse. As much as he loves his brother, this was a perfect opportunity to tease him. And, it could arguably be his last opportunity before Wil goes off to college. He simply has to make the most out of it.

”Don’t you have a friend to meet up with?” Wilbur says, voice a little loud in that way it gets when he’s flustered or annoyed. Tommy would chance a guess at both, and it does nothing but make him grin wider, wiggling his eyebrows playfully. Eret laughs from his spot on the couch, and Wil mutters a quick, “Shut up, Eret.”

”Does he talk about me?” Fundy coos, now leaning over the back of the couch, cheek resting against his palm as if he’s a lovestruck schoolgirl. He even batts his eyelashes a little, which sends both him and Niki into a laughing fit. Tommy nods.

”Yeah. You’re the Dutch kid with white bits in his hair.” Tommy replies, endlessly entertained with the way Fundy gasps in mock offense, turning around so quickly Tommy thinks he must have pulled something. He stares at Wil, who looks maybe ten seconds away from absolutely murdering Tommy where he stands, uncaring for the collection of witnesses. He’d probably know where to hide the body, too.

”Is that all I am to you, Wil?” Fundy asks, sounding utterly distraught and heartbroken, and Tommy can’t help but chuckle. Of course they’re over dramatic; it’s a bunch of theater kids. Wil doesn’t even bother gracing that with a response. Instead, he takes a deep sigh, rubbing at his temples and pushing his hair up out of his face. 

“Tommy.” Wil says, and it’s borderline threatening if not for the fact that Tommy’s pretty sure Wil won’t do anything to him. Pretty sure, at least. Tommy raises his hands defensively, chancing a glance back to Tubbo. The boy still looks a little shocked, though now it looks as if he’s concentrating on something. When he notices Tommy’s staring, he looks back at him.

”Can we stay? Please?” He says, and his voice is little more than a whisper. He should be able to talk at a normal volume without being heard, but for whatever reason, his words are so soft spoken Tommy almost misses what he said. When he realizes, though, he widens his eyes and takes his phone out from his pocket, and makes a show of reading the notification. 

“Ah, shit. My friend cancelled.” He says. He’s not sure why Tubbo wants to stay here, especially since it basically guarantees that neither of them will get anything done. But when he says it, Tubbo flashes him an appreciative grin, while Wilbur nearly glares at him. 

“You’re kidding me.”

”I’m not, I’m not-!” Tommy assures, and Wil groans. “Look, I promise I’ll be real quiet, alright, and I’ll let you do your weird theater kid stuff.” Wil looks at him after that, somewhere between frustrated and confused, lips slightly parted and brows furrowed. Tommy has to pull his best puppy eyes before Wil gives, sighing and hanging his head a little.

”Fine. But you’re not allowed to commentate, got it?” Wil says, and Tommy nods excitedly. He sits himself down on the floor in front of the couch, trying to remain as inconspicuous as possible as he goes through his work. It’s a little annoying having to listen to them practice dialogue and stage blocking, but what’s arguably worse is that every time he looks up to see what Tubbo’s gotten up to, the boy is always mere centimeters from that Eret kid. He’s focused solely on him, and while his expression varies between focused concentration and amused smiling, Tommy can’t help but grow concerned. It’s not like any of them can see Tubbo, but with how close they are, Tommy’s a little concerned. Even when they’re in class, Tubbo doesn’t act this strange. And he’s not acting this way to any of the other people Wil’s practicing a performance with. 

Tommy eventually gives up on studying that day. Instead, he sits back and cracks open his Diet Coke, watching the performance his brother and friends practice. It looks a little silly, and Fundy can’t quite annunciate one of the words, but overall it’s not the worst thing he’s ever watched. Niki definitely needs to be louder, and Tommy tells her as much when they take a break from the scene. At first, Wil gives him a look when he starts talking, but once he starts giving genuine advice, he actually asks for Tommy’s opinion on their performance. Now, Tommy’s by no means the most theatrical out of their family, so he gives his advice with a grain of salt. Wil seems to appreciate it though, and they run through the scene with the adjustments he suggested. 

It takes a while before Tubbo finds a spot on the floor, watching from a normal distance. His presence makes Tommy cock his head, waiting for an explanation, but he isn’t given one. So, the two sit and watch the others practice, occasionally breaking out into fits of giggles as one of them forgets a line or trips over a word. They each end up leaving at different times during the evening, and once they’re all finally gone, Tubbo turns himself completely visible. “Wil, how well do you know Eret?” He asks eagerly, and Wilbur nearly shoots a foot in the air from the boy’s appearance. 

“I mean, he’s been in my class all year, but I haven’t really talked with him much.” Wil says. Tubbo nods, taking in the information, and as Wil spots the contemplative look on his face, he asks, “Why?”

”I-I don’t know. I think I remember him, maybe?” Tubbo answers, though he genuinely sounds unsure. His lips pull down in a frown as his brows furrow. It’s an expression he’s only worn a few times before, while he’s tried remembering things. The slight frustration and disappointment as the knowledge he’s looking for just barely manages to escape him. Tommy pities him, then. Each time it happens it always seems to make him so distraught. “I remember a deep voice, and he seems kind of familiar. Maybe- Maybe I knew him?” He says. It sounds more for himself than for anyone else. 

“What do you want me to ask him? _‘Hey, do you know this dead kid?’”_ Wil asks, and though his question is definitely meant as a joke, it seems like a genuine possibility. Tubbo’s eyes widen and he quickly shakes his head.

”No, that seems- that seems a bit rude, doesn’t it?” He says. Wil gives a small chuckle at that.

“I can try hanging out with him more, if you think that’ll help. He seems like a pretty cool guy, and Fundy and Niki seem to like him.” Wil offers, and at that, Tubbo reluctantly nods. “There’s not much time between now and the end of the semester, but I’ll see what I can do.

For the rest of the evening, the subject is dropped. Wil leaves the house the rest of the week to go study or practice with his theater group, which leaves Tommy, Tubbo, and Techno piled up in the living room working. Tubbo helps Tommy study while Techno does his own work. He occasionally looks up to comment on whatever the other two are doing, a tired smile pulling at his lips. Wil comes home just before dinner, and they talk about the performance and the work that’s coming along. Sure, Wil’s also studying for his other classes, but his theater final is the only one that’s going to be performed in front of a live audience, so it’s safe to say he’s a little stressed over it. Besides, if he fails it badly enough, it could prevent him from graduating. That said, there’s no way for him to fail that badly unless he simply doesn’t show up for the final.

The next week is full of stressful testing. Tommy wears his new hoodie to combat the chill of the school AC. He doesn’t use Tubbo’s assistance at all on this final, feeling prepared enough to breeze through the questions on his exams. He double checks his work when he’s done, and from there, raises his hand to call the teacher over. They get out earlier those days, and while usually Tommy would take that as an opportunity to spend more time at the clearing, he’s far too exhausted for that. Instead, he goes home and crashes into his bed, where he takes a well deserved nap. It’s worth it, too, because on the last day they’re all piling into the car to go to the school. Wil’s got his dorky cap and gown on, hair spilling out from underneath the material of the cap. He’s grinning widely, causing wrinkles at the corners of his eyes.

”You look stupid.” Tommy says as he hops in the back seat, and Phil reaches back to smack his leg. Techno sits next to him in the back, with Wil riding shotgun. They show up to the ceremony to see the rest of Wil’s class, all dressed in the same robes. He sits in a sanctioned area, while the rest of them find a place in the crowd. Tubbo doesn’t claim a chair, but he does stand just to Tommy’s side, equally as excited as the rest of them. Phil’s got his phone out as the ceremony begins, lead by a valedictorian speech and then another one from the principal. Somehow, it manages to be equal parts boring and exciting, and Tommy can’t help the fluttery feeling he gets when they finally start announcing names.

It takes a while to get to Wil, but once it does, Tommy cheers as loudly as he can. Wil’s smiling as he walks across the small stage, taking his diploma before shaking hands with the principal, vice principal, and his grade level counselor. There’s something a little bittersweet about it, knowing that Wil’s gonna be gone soon, off to do his own thing in college. He’s got new things waiting for him, and with the smile on his face as he walks back to the graduates’ section, Tommy can’t help but be proud. He’s gonna miss his brother, sure, but he’s a little more okay with him leaving. Especially when he sees him so happy.

As the ceremony comes to a conclusion and the graduates throw their caps into the air, the crowd slowly begins to disperse. Tommy’s smiling and laughing as he runs up to Wil and gives him the tightest hug he can manage. It’s returned tenfold, his ribs crushed a little as Wil picks him up as best he can, getting him half an inch or so off the ground. Techno smiles fondly, walking over and ruffling Wil’s hair, which Wil returns with a playful laugh as he shoves his brother’s head aside. He’s definitely crying when Tommy pulls back, and Tommy can’t help but bark out a laugh. “No, don’t you fucking dare cry on me. You’re gonna make me all emotional and shit.”

He does cry; he can’t help it. When they get back home, Phil calls in an order of food from one of Wil’s favorite restaurants. They pile together on the couch, with Tommy and Tubbo sitting on the floor, and they watch Hamilton together. Wil sings out the songs loudly and badly, and after a while Tommy and Tubbo join in. It’s by no means good, but it’s fun, and the musical ends late into the night. Tommy gives Wil one last hug before heading up the stairs to go to bed, where he falls asleep with Tubbo’s arms wrapped around him. 

The next day, Tommy wakes late into the afternoon. He smiles, getting dressed for the day. He plans to spend the afternoon hanging out with Tubbo in the tree house, creating a perfect start to the break. He fixes his hair and when he goes to empty his backpack, he clears out the different binders and dumps everything else into his trash bin. It won’t be needed anymore, and there’s a small euphoria at finally getting rid of it all. Now he can spend his time not having to worry about tests or school, and can instead focus on playing video games or hanging out at the tree house. With his backpack emptied, he gathers up everything they might need, including the stuffed bee, Tubbo’s ukulele, and the cassette player. He shrugs the backpack over his shoulders and heads downstairs to have breakfast as well as gather drinks and snacks.

Tubbo sits on the couch, smiling as Tommy comes down. He gets himself some cereal, and once he’s done, the two of them shout to Phil that they’re heading out and go on their way. The flowers have long since faded off the trees, but now the leaves have come in, panting the roads in vibrant green. It makes the woods look a lot more lively, with small vines hanging from the lower branches, winding their way around the trunk. The grass is a light green, springing up from the ground in odd patches. They get maybe a hundred feet away from the main road, and the foliage is so thick that he can’t even see it anymore. 

The woods is teeming with activity, and as they finally make it to the clearing, Tommy can’t help but grin. They race to the tree house, this time with fair rules established. Still, Tubbo wins, but this time not by too much. The two spend the remainder of the afternoon lazing about, discussing future plans for the summer. Tubbo plays his ukulele while Tommy finally manages to figure out how to sit on the hammock. They talk about maybe adding a swing from one of the lower branches, and the different materials they would need to make it happen. When the air around them grows too hot, they head to the creek. Tommy doesn’t splash at Tubbo, but instead decides to walk a little further up the creek, where he finds a rather large moss covered rock. It doesn’t take long before the two of them are sat on top of it, marveling at the view down the river. With the light filtering through the canopies in little rays, glistening off the running water, it’s absolutely gorgeous. 

Evening does eventually come, and they get their rest, nothing too important to do for the foreseeable future. They spend the first few days of summer like that, waking up and hanging around the house until mid afternoon, when they walk to the tree house and hang out. It’s one night, about a week or so into the break that something different happens. Tubbo had gone to sleep a little earlier than Tommy, leaving him to finish watching a movie in the living room by himself. When it ends, he goes up the stairs and into his room, only to hear bits of muffled crying. It causes him to quirk a brow, lips pulled in a small frown. “Tubbo? You alright man?”

There’s no direct answer, and in the darkness of the night around them, he can’t quite see the boy. So, mumbling an apology for potentially blinding his friend, Tommy flicks on the light. His eyes widen as he realizes that the place Tubbo would usually sleep is completely empty. His heart beats against his chest almost painfully as he rushes to the bed side, staring as if he can somehow find a way to bring his friend back. There’s wet tears on the pillow, which is kind of a good sign, but aside from that there’s no trace of his best friend. Tommy sits on his spot and keeps his eyes trained on that part of the bed, fidgeting with the stuffed bee. 

It takes a little bit, but Tubbo does come back, curled up and crying in his sleep. Immediately Tommy feels a wave of relief, before it blends into immense sympathy for the boy. There’s not much he can really do to console him, due to the unfortunate fact that his hand will fade right through. So, he sits there and watches, trying to keep close. The lights stay on the entire night. They have to, otherwise Tommy wouldn’t be able to see if Tubbo faded away again, which he does twice more within the first hour. Every time he comes back, there’s tear stains on the bedding that tug at Tommy’s heart. Eventually, Tubbo does stop crying, laying still on the bed. It’s enough to set Tommy at ease, but not enough to send him to sleep late in the night. He stays up.

They don’t talk about it in the morning. The song birds chirp annoyingly. Light filters in through the window blinds, filling the room and making the ceiling light completely useless. When Tommy stands to go turn it off, Tubbo stirs from his spot on the bed. He sits up just as Tommy turns around, and the two make eye contact. “I had one of the dreams,” Tubbo murmurs, and Tommy gives a small nod. Tubbo’s brows furrow a little at that, and he pats the spot on the bed next to him. “Get some sleep, Tommy. I’ll shut the blinds.”

And that’s all they really say about it. Tommy climbs into the bed, pure exhaustion walking over him. Tubbo gets up, closing the blinds as well as the curtains, providing him with a little more dark. Tommy falls asleep, and after that, the day is almost normal. He wants it to be normal. He doesn’t want to acknowledge whatever feeling he felt while Tubbo was fading in and out, being unable to do anything but watch his distress. Which would be fine- Tubbo doesn’t seem to want to talk about it either -except about a week and a half later, it happens again. 

Tommy shifts on the bed to face him, murmuring whatever soft, touchy nonsense he can to try and calm his friend down. He’s tired, and he doesn’t think he can do another one of those nights, but there’s absolutely no way he’s going to fall asleep right now. Whether it works or not is hard to tell, but regardless Tubbo calms down after a little. It’s only a good thirty minutes after the boy has calmed that Tommy finds his own rest, this time with his chest facing the specter. 

When they wake in the morning, Tommy wastes no time in asking, “What do you dream about?” It pushes through the anxiety, all the hesitation gripping him tight. He needs to know. They both do. Tubbo’s breath catches, and he doesn’t say anything for a second before his eyes drift to the blankets.

”The voices. It’s really- it’s really bright. Usually it’s just darkness, but whenever- whenever that happens, it’s just the opposite.” He admits. Then, a little softer, he adds, “It’s cold there. And- And I think I feel things. It’s hard to tell.” 

Tommy’s not sure what to say to that. The temperature difference is new, though that could be blamed on the change in weather. The last time something like this happened, it had been Christmas time, so a cold temperature wouldn’t be the most noticeable. He can blame that development on the shift to summer heat. The touching part though- that causes some awful knot to form in his lower stomach. Because Tubbo has never, never been able to touch things. Manipulate them, sure, but never feel them. 

“Where is ‘there’?” He murmurs, brows furrowed and lips pulling into a frown. Tubbo shakes his head.

”I-I don’t know.”

That’s where the conversation ends. Because Tubbo sounds scared and unsure and confused and frustrated, and that’s no way to start a morning. So they go downstairs and have their breakfast and try to distract themselves from the looming threat that seems to hang over their shoulders. Wil comes into the kitchen, smiling and radiant, and more importantly, well dressed. Not the typical loungewear he tended to reserve for vacations and weekends. This was nicer. “Where’re you headed all dressed up?” Tommy asks, deciding to bring some conversation into the morning. Sitting together in silence while Tommy eats a bowl of cereal wasn’t exactly doing them any good in moving on from their previous conversation.

“I’m hanging out with Fundy, Eret, and Niki today.” Wil answers, reaching through the pantry to find a granola bar. He takes one of the honey and oat flavored ones, leaning against the counter. “Fundy, Niki and I only moved here this year, so Eret offered to show us some fun things to do around town.” He elaborates, taking a large bite from the granola bar. He’s a big man, Tommy thinks. He’s probably going to need two.

”Any opportunity to go hang out with Niki, right?” He teases, smiling a little at the way Wil nearly chokes on the granola. Tommy laughs at the coughing and sputtering sounds, his loud wheeze ringing through the first floor. 

“Why do you always have to tease me about that?” He says, and Tommy grins wickedly at the way he doesn’t deny it. 

“I reckon I’d tease you the same if you were as head over heels for Schlatt.” He muses, and then a thought comes to mind, and he laughs to himself a little as he finds the right way to phrase it. “But- But unfortunately, the pretty princess is in another castle.” Tubbo snickers a little at the nickname while Wil’s face dusts pink. It does well to highlight the crumbs of granola speckled around his mouth. 

Wil hangs his head, shaking it a little. He’s grinning when he looks up, a warm smile splayed across his face. “When you get a girlfriend at some point, I’m going to tease you to all hell.” He muses, and Tommy shrugs a little. That doesn’t bother him much at the moment. He’s sure it will then, but he’s never been one to back down from a bit of banter. “Or rather, _if_ you get a girlfriend.” Wil adds upon seeing his indifference, and Tommy hums.

”I suppose that’s true; I could always get a boyfriend.” He says. Wil’s eyebrows raise, and he quickly adds, “I mean, I could. But right now, girlfriend for sure.”

“Not what I was getting at, but you know what? Fair enough.” Wil takes another bite of his granola bar, finally wiping the crumbs away from his mouth. The silence that’s created after that is comfortable. It’s a pleasant change from the gloomy tension that had been there previous. 

“Do you think you can talk to Eret for me?” Tubbo asks as Wil grabs another granola bar, about to leave the kitchen. The older stops, turning his head to face the ghost. 

“I mean, sure, but I’ll probably be talking to him anyways. It’d be weird if I didn’t since we’re all hanging out together.” Tubbo nods at that answer, and as he leaves the room, Tommy swallows his mouthful of cereal.

”Have fun on your group date!”

Wilbur’s hand sticks back through the kitchen entrance, flipping him off. Tommy laughs. The rest of their day goes as normal as they can make it. Luckily the conversation with Wilbur has mostly lightened the mood, clearing the tension and leaving them free to talk about literally anything else. Neither one of them really wants to confront what’s happening with Tubbo, so instead they work to avoid it entirely. They play video games together and watch TV together, occasionally chatting with Techno when he comes down for a late morning meal. When Wil comes back, it’s later in the evening. “Hey Wil. How’d your date go?” Tommy asks, craning his head over the back of the couch. Wilbur catches his eye, something subtle shifting in his expression. Something Tommy can’t quite identify.

He inhales a little sharper than before. “It went well, it went well.” He replies, and Tommy flashes him a grin before going back to the game. Later that evening, Wil informs them of an annual festival that’s held in the park. Something about the founding of the town; something to get people excited and entertained during the lax summer months. “There’s going to be games and music and stuff. Some rides.” He says, picking at his food. Phil smiles at him, intrigued.

”When did you say this was happening?” 

“About a week from now.” Wil answers. Phil looks around the table expectantly, and Tommy flashes him a grin before looking to his right. Techno looks between everyone else, then gives a small half shrug. 

“That could be fun.” He says, and with Techno’s participation mostly confirmed, they make plans to hang out that day. Tubbo sits silently, and when Tommy noticed his lack of participation, he turns and grins at his friend.

”Maybe you can help me cheat on some games.” Tubbo looks to him at the suggestion, his distant look switching to something more mischievous.

”Yeah! We can win so many prizes!”

That night after dinner, Wil pulls Phil aside for something. It piques Tommy’s curiosity, but seeing as he’s currently tasked with cleaning the dishes, there’s not much he can really do. Techno’s retreated up into his room again while Tubbo sits on the other side of the counter, watching Tommy scrub the dishes clean. He can just barely hear his brother and father over the sound of the rushing water, and he’s half tempted to turn it off just to get a chance at hearing their conversation. But that would be a breach of their privacy, and while that doesn’t matter much to him, it matters quite a bit to his brother. So, he keeps the water running even as he sets the dishes aside to dry, water spilling uninterrupted from the tap.

What he didn’t quite care to realize was the fact the deafening sound of the water was a two way street.

”Tommy, can I be honest with you man?” Tubbo whispers, and if not for the fact that his friend is sat directly across from him, he’s sure he would have missed the sentence entirely. His brows pinch at the sort of nervousness to his friends voice.

”Of course you can.” He mutters, and Tubbo nods. Tommy’s almost done with the dishes, but for this conversation, he lets himself take his time with scrubbing them clean. Thankfully nobody in the house is a really picky eater when it comes to Phil’s cooking. The only person who doesn’t quite manage to finish their food is Techno, and that’s because of his ADHD medication. Tommy always tries to do that plate first, which is typically pretty easy, since that plate always seems to be on top.

”I’m kind of nervous about the festival. I-I can’t really tell if I’m excited or not.” He admits, and there’s the slow crawl of that heavy feeling. He can’t help the way his words sound clipped when he replies.

”Why would you be scared?” He asks, words cutting to the quick. He can see the way Tubbo winces at his audible frustration, guilt seeping into his chest and only making the feeling worse. He pushes it down. “It’s just a festival, man. It’ll be fun. There’ll be games and rides and shit.”

”I know, I know, but... I feel really anxious,” Tubbo murmurs back, words sounding frantic and a little distressed. “What if I... y’know. Have a dream again?” He adds, and a surge of everything flares up in Tommy’s chest.

”That only happens when you sleep, doesn’t it?” The feeling weighs heavy on his lungs, causing his words to sound much harsher than he means them to be. It causes a silence between them, one that Tommy takes to finish up the remainder of the dishes and set them aside. He sighs once he’s done, forcing himself to cool his temper. “It’ll be fine, Tubbo. And if you get any bad vibes or anything, you tell me and we’ll walk home, alright?” Tubbo nods, and Tommy adds, “It’ll be fun. There’s gonna be rides and shit. It’ll be a real good time.”

Tubbo smiles a little at that. “Yeah, it will.”

The time until the festival is a strange limbo. They try relaxing as much as they can, but at the same time, their nights are sleepless as they wait for another one of Tubbo’s dreams. There’s no guarantee that one will occur, but they seem to have become more consistent, almost on a schedule. It leaves them both exhausted and sleeping in until the late hours of the morning, when light spills in through the half drawn curtains. Four or so days in when there hasn’t been another dream yet, they begin to think that maybe they’ve stopped all together. It’s pure naïve optimism, crafted specially to ignore the looming threat of danger they’ve worked so hard to ignore. It’s masked as a comfort. “It’s a good thing. Maybe it won’t happen again.” Tommy says, voice hazy with sleep as he lays down in his bed. That doesn’t stop him from falling asleep facing Tubbo, just in case. 

When the festival does come, it’s on a Saturday. They wait until around lunch time before they get ready, planning on having lunch there. The festival supposedly runs into the late evening, so they should be there a while. They each have their phones on them, Tommy’s tucked into his backpack along with the stuffed bee, his hoodie, and a flashlight. The flashlight had been Wil’s recommendation, so that way if it got dark he could spot Tubbo a little bit easier. Tommy quirked a brow at him when Wil initially made it, but he supposed it was true enough. They pile excitedly into the car, driving their way towards the local park.

Finding a parking space proves incredibly difficult. The streets are cluttered with countless cars, leaving very little room to park. They end up finding a bank a block or two away from the event, getting out of the car and walking the rest of the way. Phil gives them some money to spend, either on food or tickets or whatever else might be sold at the festival. “We’re all going to have lunch first, and I want each of you to have your phones on while we’re here, got it? I have my ringer on if you need to find me.” Phil says, and the three of them nod, getting their things together. As they walk to the park, the first thing Tommy notices is the distant music.

When they round the corner, he’s able to see a lot more. There’s a Ferris wheel set up, along with a few different spinning rides and a fun house. There’s tons of different venders, their stations set up under canopies of varying colors. At the base of the hill where Tommy and Tubbo had gone sledding during the winter, there’s now a makeshift stage where a band plays, their instruments hooked up to large speakers. People congregate in the middle, the base of the hill bordered by different food trucks. It smells of carnival food, making his stomach growl, and they waste no time in making their way over there.

It’s a tad awkward walking through the crowds. Wil’s tall and Techno’s socially awkward, and Tubbo, both invisible and mostly non corporeal, has a difficult time navigating through the sea of other attendees. They manage to make it to the food trucks without too much struggle though, splitting to go get what they want. It takes a small bit of their money, and once he’s gotten his food, both Tommy and Tubbo walk up to the spot on the hill where Phil sits. Techno and Wil join them after a minute, and they sit and chat while watching the festivities, discussing what they’re going to do. Tubbo seems very enthusiastic for the spinning rides, though Tommy’s not so sure how that’s gonna work out. 

They finish their food and eagerly go out towards the rides. Buying tickets takes a while due to the large lines, but it gives them an opportunity to look at the different things and decide what they want to do first. They could always walk the market and buy things, but there's also a bunch of different games and rides to do. They creep up to the front of the line, buying a good amount of tickets. Tubbo doesn't need any, which is good- it means they can do everything together without having to use too much money.

They laugh once they receive the tickets, running off to do one of the spinning rides first. The line isn't too long, and once it passes, Tommy goes and finds one of the empty chairs. Tubbo waits until the ride is about to start, then quickly scrambles into a chair. He pulls the bar down as inconspicuously as he can, barely managing to get himself ready before the ride starts moving. The swings spin them around, and they both cheer and yell as they're lifted further off the ground. 

When that ride is done, Tommy stumbles a little as he walks, Tubbo grabbing on to his shoulder to stop himself from wobbling. They go to do one of the games and decide on a dart throwing game. One of the prizes is a dart gun, and the second Tommy spots it, he whispers a plan to Tubbo. They grin mischievously as they approach the table, trading a few of their tickets for a set of five darts. Tubbo's hand laces over Tommy's, gripping the dart, and as he goes to throw it, Tubbo holds it up and runs towards one of the balloons. The guy gives Tommy a weird look, but smiles all the same, gesturing for him to continue. They repeat this process until five of the balloons are popped, leaving him grinning wide and proud. "Good aim, kid." The guy says, sounding mildly agitated as he hands Tommy the gun. Tommy grins and nods, taking the gun and running off before he can get in any trouble.

"I reckon we do the Ferris wheel next." Tubbo suggests while Tommy stands near one of the many trash bins, ripping the gun out from it's cardboard packaging. Tommy looks up after chucking the cardboard away, groaning as he sees the line for the Ferris wheel.

"We could, but the line's too long. We'll be standing there for ages." He cocks the gun, loading one of darts and firing a test shot into the air, just to see how far it can go. It goes up a fair distance before falling down, and he quickly picks it back up and puts it in the chamber. "Look, how 'bout we go do some more games or rides or something, and then we come back when the line is shorter?"

"That sounds good."

Tommy nods, taking the gun in his hand as they go off to do more things. There's a teacup ride that they both manage to get on, laughing and screaming as they spin it as fast as they possibly can. It's a stark contrast to the people idly spinning around them, but it's so much fun. After that, they race off to the different shops, looking at the different things. They're more so looking for any of Tommy's brothers so that he can give his gun a test run, but that motive is set on the backburner as they look around the different stalls. There's different bottles of colored sand, gems carved into various shapes, rugs and woodcarvings. None of them are particularly interesting, but all the walking does make Tommy hungry.

Both Phil and Techno are exactly where they left them, sitting on the hill and listening to music. Tommy gets a sticky sweet dessert from one of the food trucks, something that's horrific levels of unhealthy. They sit with Techno and Phil, and Tommy tells them about all the things they've done so far. If Tubbo makes a comment, he relays it, making sure his friend is completely included. They sit and listen to the music for a bit after that, and when Tommy asks where Wil's gone off to, Techno informs him that he ran off to go hang out with his friends from school. 

One they get sufficiently bored of the conversation, Tubbo and Tommy go off to play more games. Tommy insists on doing a few of them without Tubbo's assistance, but that only results in Tubbo keeling over with laughter as Tommy completely fails at several of them. "You know they're probably rigged, right?" He laughs, just barely looking up so he can watch Tommy's expression twist into one of flustered frustration.

"Shut up." He mutters, before completely missing his shot, sending Tubbo completely to the floor with laughter. It makes his cheeks turn pink with embarrassment, made worse by the vendor giving him a coy _'Better luck next time, kid'._ "I'll have better luck fucking your ass." He mutters, and Tubbo giggles breathlessly as he pushes himself to his feet. 

"Please tell me you at least managed to save some tickets for the Ferris wheel." Tubbo says, lips quirked up in amusement as they walk away from the game. Tommy nods. 

"Yeah, yeah, I have. Don't worry. I know you want to ride it." He murmurs. Tubbo smiles at him, and as they continue walking, Tommy suddenly hears something. His eyes widen and he quickly looks around, startling the boy a little. "I think- hold on, where is he-" His brows furrow as he looks around, until finally, his eyes widen and an impish grin breaks out on his face. "I found Wil." He murmurs, and Tubbo's eyes light up in understanding, a similarly mischievous grin stretching across his own features. The pair stalk their way closer, ducking behind random people in order to avoid being seen. Tommy loads the toy gun, grinning as he raises it and shoots. "Surprise!"

Wil turns, eyes wide as his gaze lands on Tommy, the motion of his turn causing the dart to completely miss. Tubbo cackles at that, causing Tommy to groan. "Why would you announce yourself?" He howls, eyes brimming with tears with how hard he's laughing.

"Shut up." He mutters, before facing Wil with an awkward grin. He's picked up the dart now, looking it over in his hand. _"Heyyyy_ Wil."

"Where'd you get this?" He asks, eyeing the gun in Tommy's hand. He hands the dart back, which Tommy happily takes and stuffs back into the plastic barrel of the gun, giving it a fun spin for good measure. 

"One of the dart games. Tubbo helped me win it." He says proudly, hands on his hips. Tubbo giggles besides him.

"Because you couldn't win anything else without my help."

Tommy whips his head around, glaring at the boy, uncaring for whoever might be watching. "Can you just shut up man?" He says, causing Tubbo to laugh in a loud cackle. He sighs, biting back a long ramble about how his friend is so shit, and instead turns his attention back to Wil. "Where's your not-girlfriend?" He asks casually, and Wil gives him a look for the nickname but otherwise ignores it. 

"Oh, they went off. Eret had something to do." Tommy raises his eyebrows, trying his best to hide his grin.

"Wow, so they just ditched you?"

"Shut up." Wil retorts, making Tommy laugh at his eyeroll. They've been hanging out for a while now, but it's only now that Tommy realizes how the lighting around them has changed. The sun should be setting soon, causing a cool chill to run through the park and the hairs on Tommy's arm to raise. 

"Wil, can you hold my backpack for a second?" He asks, and despite their previous bickering, Wil does. Tommy unzips the pouch and pulls out his hoodie, trading it for the dart gun. As he zips the backpack again and shrugs it on his shoulders, Tubbo gasps, eyes wide.

"Tommy, the Ferris wheel!"

"Oh, shit," Tommy looks from Tubbo to Wil, suddenly a little more frantic. "Wil, Tubbo and I are going to see if we can ride the Ferris wheel, alright? Techno and Phil were on the hill last I saw." He says, words leaving him quickly as he begins to walk away, doing his best to avoid running into anyone. "We'll see you around!" He shouts, before completely turning around and bolting back to the rides area. Most people are at the base of the hill, either having food or dancing to music, leaving the lines for the rides almost empty. They make it to the ride just before the operator goes to start it. "Wait, mister-! Can we- Can I get on?" He asks, a little breathless as he fishes the remaining tickets out of his pocket.

"This is the last ride of the day." The operator says, a small hint of annoyance in his tone as Tommy gives him the biggest puppy eyes he can manage. He sighs, going to the ride and rotating it a little so that there's an open cart. Tommy smiles widely, handing over his tickets as he rushes to hop in the ride. Tubbo follows eagerly, sitting in the empty space next to him as they pull down the bar. The man closes the gate and starts up the ride, the seats beginning to move. Tommy rocks the cart once or twice as they go up, causing Tubbo to yelp and grab on to the metal bar. He shoots a glare at Tommy, causing him to laugh good naturedly, giving Tubbo an apologetic look.

The sun is setting as they go, casting a golden glow across the field before them. It's beautiful, the music distant and peaceful as they crest over the top. They can see everything, all basked in that warm radiance. The breeze blows past, making Tommy grateful for the hoodie. He looks to Tubbo to see his reaction, smiling a little at the fond and relaxed look on his face, eyes looking out across the festival. "I had a lot of fun today." He murmurs softly, gentle smile widening a little further. "This was good. I really, really enjoyed it."

Tommy's about to reply as they rise to the top of the ride again, only for Tubbo to suddenly wince, eyes screwing shut. His body tremors, and Tommy thinks he might be cold for a second before his form completely flickers, fading to the point where Tommy can't even see him. His stomach drops. "Tubbo-?" His voice is breathless, concerned. The boy grimaces, brows pinched together. "Tubbo, are you-?"

"I-I don't know. I hear-" He's cut off by another flicker, and when he comes back, tears slide down his face. Tommy panics, reaching out to try and comfort his friend, only for his hand to pass right through. Right. _Shit._

The sky darkens as the sun sets, and as Tommy and Tubbo climb out from the ride, Tommy slowly guides the other back to where Wil and the others are. He murmurs small words of encouragement, trying to keep Tubbo there with him. He doesn't know what's happening- usually this only happens while Tubbo sleeps. It's never happened while he's awake. When they reach the spot on the hill, they find only Wil there. He looks to him with a panicked desperation, watching his expression shift from a content smile to something confused and concerned. 

"Tommy, what's-"

"I don't know, I don't know Wilbur," He murmurs, breath uneven and words rambled. He sucks in a breath, trying not to let the panic overtake him completely. "Tubbo- he's, he's fading in and out, and I don't know what to do- you're- you're the ghost expert, right? What do I do?" He asks frantically. Wil's mouth falls agape, and he's quick to pull out his phone, shooting the others a text. Tubbo makes a noise besides him, an honest to god whimper as his body lurches. _"Wil-"_

"We need to go. Tommy, come with me." He says, beginnig to walk off towards the parking lot. Tommy follows, and as they reach the sidewalk, they walk in the complete opposite direction from where they parked. It shoots a spike of anxiety through Tommy's chest.

"Wil, I thought we parked in the other direction?"

"Yeah, but I don't have the keys. This is faster than trying to track down Phil or Techno." He says. Tommy swallows thickly, nodding as he follows behind Wil. Tubbo's visage dims slowly, becoming a little more difficult to see in the growing night. Tommy doesn't waste time stopping as he awkwardly pulls his flashlight out from his backpack, shrugging his backpack over his shoulders and flickering the light. It makes the boy a little mor evisible, so now he can clearly see the way he slowly fades in and out. It's terrifying.

"Tommy..." Tubbo murmurs, and Tommy puts on a small smile, trying to comfort him.

"Hey, hey- it's alright. You'll be okay." He assures, his voice soft. He has to. He has to be okay. Tommy shines the light to Wil to see where he is, finding him stopped at a familiar intersection waiting for them. Tommy's eyes widen. "Are we heading to the tree house?" He asks, and Wil nods. He doesn't say much more than that, Tubbo wincing a little as he suddenly flickers, another one of the quick disappearances and reappearances. It pulls on Tommy's chest, and he nods, quickly bringing them both through the forest.

It's weird, walking through these woods at night. Autumn had brought yellowed grass and colored leaves, golden light spilling through the canopies. Winter had brought pure white snow, with icicles dangling from then barren branches. Spring was lively, with animals and flowers, and summer was much the same, the greenery spilling from every edge of the forest, But now, here in the night, the darkness brings discomfort. Awkward shadows are cast about from the flashlight Tommy holds, making the light walk through the woods feel more like a survival horror game or something. 

The only solace is the fireflies that blink in and out of existence, their golden glow dotting through the trees. They walk in silence, walking along the banks of the creek until they reach the open clearing. Tubbo bites back a sound at their arrival, and when Tommy looks back at him, he's a little more transparent than he was before. His heart sinks. "Hey, come on." He murmurs. He's trying to sound comforting, though with the way the fear and concern slips into his voice, he's not sure he's really helping. Still, Tubbo nods, his form flickering for a moment before stabilizing. Tommy keeps his gaze there for just a second longer, just in case Tubbo will start to flicker again. Then, he looks up at Wil, who's watching them both sternly. 

"Come on. Quickly."

Tommy nods, and from there, they walk across the field. The tall grass tickles at his legs, fireflies fluttering past as they walk. They only stop when they reach the base of the ladder, looking up at the tree house. Wil's the first to talk. "Tubbo, can you remember anything?" He asks softly, and Tubbo shakes his head a little. 

"No, I don't...maybe?" His brows furrow, lips pulled in a tight scowl. He stares at the tree house for a second, his form flickering for a moment before it seems to steady. "It's- it feels like it's right there, but..." He trails off, and as his eyes lower to the ground, they get caught somewhere on the ladder. 

"Hey, it's okay if you can't." Tommy assures softly, though his chest twists coldly as Tubbo's hand reaches up to the fourth rung on the ladder. It's the rung Tommy had to replace back when they first started hanging out at the tree house, replaced with a thick stick from one of the nearby trees. The second his hand touches it, he winces, biting back a sound as he scrunches his eyes shut. Tommy's stomach drops in response, that sickly feeling only getting worse as Tubbo opens his eyes. Because now- now his friend is _glowing,_ and that's _never_ happened before. "You- Are you alright?" He asks, watching as the boy reorients himself, one hand grabbing the back of his head. He looks pained. "We can always stop now, we don't have to do this-"

Tubbo shakes his head, his free hand waving Tommy off. He shuts his mouth immediately, standing there as Tubbo begins to climb the ladder. Once the boy is completely up, Tommy glances at Wil before following, meeting the boy in the tree house. The glow from Tubbo is a lot more evident in the darkness of the room, and Tommy's quick to get the flashlight. The boy is slowly walking around the small floor plan of the tree house, fingers tracing across the walls. Tommy stands silently for a few seconds, and just as he's about to suggest that they go home and forget this ever happened, Tubbo speaks. "I think I remember being here." He murmurs, face screwed in that focused look. His fingers trace across the carvings near the window, where their names are scrawled. 

There's a second, and then Tubbo looks almost angry with how frustrated he is. He walks towards the ladder, climbing down, only to groan and flicker not even half way down. Tommy quickly rushes over to him, stomach turning once he notices his friend clutching the back of his head again, tears sprung in his eyes as he glows more brightly than before. They make it to the bottom of the ladder, and Tommy reaches out a hand, unsure of how he could comfort his friend. 

There's a faint whistle, though with all that's happening, Tommy doesn't notice it. The sound goes high into the sky until eventually it lets out a loud explosion, causing Tommy to jump. He turns his head out towards the woods, in the direction the road would be, and sees the colorful embers dripping down from the sky. More whistles follow, and once Tommy fully processes what's happening, he turns his head back to his friend. He's clutching his head, eyes wide and jaw slack. "Tubbo? Are you- Are you alright?" Tommy asks, concerned. He's really nervous now, a cold sweat building in his palms and his stomach turning like he might actually throw up. 

"I-I hit my head on the ladder." His friend murmurs, and Tommy's eyes widen. Tubbo's voice is raspy, the words breathed more than spoken. He glows a little brighter. 

"What are you talking about?" He's scared, now- scared and horribly confused. He doesn't know what the glowing means, he doesn't understand how Tubbo could have hit his head on the ladder. His breath is short in his lungs.

"I-... A firework." It's a murmured revelation, one that's followed by the sound of distant explosions. "I was- I got hit by a firework. And I fell, and then-" He cuts himself off, hands faintly touching the ladder. He flickers once more, and this time, he glows so much brighter. It makes Tommy recoil, covering his eyes with his arm. When he drops it though, his mouth falls agape, and it feels as if he's been plunged into a pool of ice water. 

Tubbo's floating. Drifting slowly upwards, a near catatonic look on his face. 

"Tubbo?" Tommy yells, and he doesn't get a response. It causes a cold rush of panic to swell in his chest, his breaths growing labored. There's a hand on his shoulder, one that nearly scalds him, and he's quick to push it away. Wil's expression is nothing but pity, and Tommy looks back up to his friend. "Tubbo! Come on-" He's panicking, now, tears beginning to brim in his eyes. This can't be it. _"Please!"_

The tears blur his vision, but he doesn't bother trying to blink them away. Tubbo's just a glowing figure, elevated above the ground. "I-I need you. You can't go!" He cries. The glow begins to dim, the constant sound of fireworks doing nothing to help his current distress. When he finally manages to wipe at his eyes, he looks up, and finds Tubbo standing in front of him. He's got a sad look on his face, and when Tommy meets his eyes, it transforms into a soft smile. "I-I need you, man. Please..." He murmurs, voice horribly raspy and choked. 

Cold arms wrap around him tightly, and just the feel of it makes Tommy's legs give out from under him. Tubbo follows, holding on to him tightly. In his distress, Tommy reaches forwards, trying to wrap his arms around Tubbo. It's cold, but he's able to- Tubbo's body is like a firm wind pushing against every point of contact. It pushes against his back, rubbing, and Tommy chokes out a small sob. They sit there for a while, Tubbo's glow completely gone and the pressure slowly weakening. 

This can't be it. He's not ready. 

Tubbo holds him as tight as he can, and it's the first real hug they've managed to do. It can't be their last- he promised. 

“We had our fun,” Tubbo murmurs, voice soft and comforting and vulnerable in a way that makes Tommy sob. “We- we had our laughs. We had fun.”

”Tubbo, please,” Tommy chokes, voice cracking as he begs. The rubbing on his back is becoming lighter, and he clings to Tubbo as if that will keep him here just a minute longer. Just a few seconds longer as if that will be enough to cope. “I-I can’t- _no.”_

There’s a small pause, and Tommy hates that he can physically feel Tubbo fading away in his arms, his hold weakening. He would give anything to never have to experience this. 

“You made me so, so happy Tommy. I’m glad I got to stick around long enough to meet you.” There’s a small shudder, a moment where Tommy’s arms slip and he thinks he might have lost him. But he comes back not a half second later, gritting his teeth like it hurts. He hopes it doesn’t. "I'll see you soon." He whispers, and before Tommy can even begin to protest, he's fading. The pressure completely slips away until there's nothing left, arms falling limp without anything to support them. A gentle breeze blows through the clearing, the whistle of a rocket shooting through the sky. His head hangs limp, tears falling freely from his eyes as he struggles to breathe. The rocket goes off.

He's gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more to go.


	16. Chapter 16

It takes a while before Tommy sees him again.

Left alone in the open field, the slowly fading cold sensation on his arms and chest making him curl up on himself and sob. He’s absolutely broken, unsure what to do in this situation and how to handle it. Because Tubbo’s gone, and there was nothing he could do to keep him here, smiling and laughing and held in his arms for- fuck, that had been their first hug. Their first and only hug. And now he’s left alone in a dark forest curled up on himself, hoping to feel the tingles of that cold sensation for just a little bit longer. 

Wil gives him space this time, and once his crying has been reduced to choked sobs and gasping little breaths, he rests his hand on his shoulder. It’s warm. It pulls Tommy up on shaking legs, letting him watch the fireflies blink in and out, golden speckles decorating the night sky. Not a word is exchanged between them as Wil drapes his arm across Tommy’s back, his warm and steady hand taking the flashlight from Tommy’s cold and trembling ones. Together, they navigate through the darkened forest until they find their way to the main road. And from there, they go home.

The fireworks are still going.

”I’m so sorry, Tommy,” Wil tries to murmur as they enter the neighborhood, hoping for some sort of conversation. Some small condolence. “But it was time. He had to go at some point.”

Tommy’s brows furrow, cheeks stained with tear tracks and barely illuminated by the flashlight. “He- he didn’t have to.” He says back, voice raspy and little more than a whisper. “We were... We were going to always be together Wil.” Tears swell up in his eyes again, not enough moisture to push past. So instead, he rubs at his eyes, pushing at them with his palms. “He promised.”

He hates the look Wil gives him now. He would give anything to never have his brother look at him like that again. The way his face seems so accepted yet pitying, like he’s witnessing a tragedy he can do nothing about. And as sad as he is right now, he doesn’t want to be a tragedy. He wants his happy ending, he wants to feel Tubbo underneath his arms again, he wants to watch the way his smile pushes up near his cheeks when he smiles so wide it hurts, he wants to hear him laugh and talk and-

They’ve reached their house.

”Maybe he’s watching over you, now.” Wil provides, his arm sliding off of Tommy’s back in order to reach into his pocket and pull out their house key. The key goes in, turning and resulting in a dull click when the lock opens. Tommy’s jaw clenches.

“That’s bullshit.” He mutters, stepping into the warm home. Wil flicks on the house lights, brightening the place up a bit. Tommy keeps his gaze to the hardwood flooring, glaring as if it’s the cause of the horrible sickly feeling that consumes him. “I don’t _want_ him watching over me. I want him with me. I-I want...” The words die on his tongue, jaw trembling in a way that only adds to his frustration. “I need...” He tries again, but his voice grows small and then fades completely, leaving every word after that just a breath over shaky lips. 

Wil gives him that look again- Tommy can practically feel it. It makes him want to reach up and punch his brother in the face, but that’s not as effective when every part of him is shaking. “You need to get some sleep.” Wil says softly, his hand resting on his shoulder to guide him towards the stairs. Tommy huffs, shrugging off Wil’s hand and storming up the stairs to his room. He doesn’t need help- he doesn’t need to be looked at as if he’s something pitiful. His teeth clench as he steps into his room. His eyes catch on the two stuffed bears sitting idly on his nightstand. The door shuts quietly behind him, mouth slightly agape as he approaches it. He gently lifts up the bear Tubbo made for him, holding it carefully as if it’ll somehow disappear too. The fur on the stuffed animal is soft, and as he traces his hand along the paw, he finds the button. He presses it.

”Hi Tommy!” It chimes, voice slightly distorted. But still, it’s that same cheery, excited voice, and Tommy can’t help but hold the bear close in what would be a bone crushing hug. He holds it like that until his arms ache, and when he finally releases it from the tight grasp, his eyes land on the other bear. His brows furrow the second he sees it. A multitude of emotions come swarming back to him, all the aching and anxiety and heavy knots he’s forced down and away are now at the forefront of his mind, and all he can think of is how fucking patronizing it’s been to have Wil look at him like that, assuring things are okay when they _fucking aren’t-_

He takes the bear Wil made for him and chucks it against the back wall of his closet. It makes a rather loud thump despite just being cotton and fabric, and Tommy quickly walks over to slam his closet shut. It doesn’t quite make the feeling go away, a low growl rising in his throat at the realization. He walks towards his light switch, flicking the ceiling light off as he walks to bed. The bed feels so much more empty without Tubbo to fill some of the space, and Tommy’s brows pinch at the realization. He turns to where he would normally be able to see the boy, wrapping his arms around the stuffed bear. His hand finds that paw again, squeezing. 

“Hi Tommy!”

Again.

“Hi Tommy!”

And again.

”Hi Tommy!”

Until he can’t do it anymore. Until his body is so wracked with exhaustion that his hand falls limp, and he lets himself fall asleep. 

Sweat keeps his shirt stuck to his back, waking him up at some ungodly hour of the night. He groans, tossing in bed until the covers are completely kicked away. Sitting up, he blinks against the darkness of the room, gaze moving to the open space in the bed. When his eyes land on the bear, he sucks in a breath. He takes off his hoodie, and then the shirt underneath, just to be rid of the sweat soaked fabric. He puts the hoodie back on and tries to go to sleep again, but something keeps him up. It’s annoying, really, but as the minutes slowly trickle past, he becomes familiar with the darkness of his room. He waits about two or so hours of just laying there before he gets up again, taking the bear with him as he heads downstairs.

His footsteps are light, years of practice from avoiding bad situations in other foster homes. It’s not that he’s expecting something bad, he just doesn’t want to talk to anyone right now. He’s not sure he could handle being looked at like how Wil did again. Luckily, nobody seems to be up, giving Tommy ample amounts of time to locate the coffee machine and make himself a cup or two. He’s seen Phil do it enough times to have a general idea of how to do it, and he figures it out quick enough. As the coffee brews, he sits on one of the barstools, waiting. There’s no one to talk to. The dribble of coffee prevents him from being left in total silence, but it still isn’t the best. So, when his thoughts start to get a little too loud, to where the aching in his chest becomes almost all consuming, he squeezes the paw of the stuffed bear to hear Tubbo’s voice. It’s nice. He drinks his coffee black once it’s done brewing.

He doesn’t go back to sleep. He waits during the day for the sounds of people moving around the house to stop, so he can be left alone in his room. After a while, there’s a soft knock on his door. “Tommy? Have you eaten anything?” Phil asks, his voice sounding concerned. Tommy waits a second, unsure if he really wants to talk to anyone. But this is Phil, and to be fair, he actually is incredibly hungry. So he calls back.

”No, I haven’t.”

”Well, I have some food if you’d like.” Phil offers, and Tommy nods to himself, stepping out of bed and answering the door. He doesn’t meet Phil’s gaze as he opens it, wanting to avoid as much pity as he can. Phil’s got a paper plate in his hands, a sandwich with some crisps and pickles set on it, along with a glass of water. Tommy takes it once he’s offered, mumbling a quiet thanks under his breath. Phil doesn’t reply at first, but when he does, his tone is soft and tentative. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Tommy’s brows furrow. “No. Thank you for the food.” He says, a small bite to his words. Phil nods at his answer, and Tommy shuts the door soon after, eating his food in the privacy of his room. He absolutely doesn’t want anyone in this stupid family to tell him that things are going to be okay- that they’ll get better. As if saying he’ll get over it- as if saying he’ll forget about his best friend will cheer him up. He doesn’t want to forget, he doesn’t want to get over it. He’d rather lay in bed all day with a recording of his voice than go out and face that lecture; That talk of _‘That’s just how life is’._

He stays in his room, not answering the door for anyone but Phil. Luckily, nobody tries talking to him, giving him enough space to do his thing. At one point he hears Wil leave his room, pausing outside Tommy’s door before heading downstairs, where he seems to have a conversation with Phil. Tommy uses that opportunity to go take a shower, hoping to finish in time before Wil comes back upstairs and tries talking to him. When he turns off the water, he waits, sighing once he hears bits of their conversation. They’re talking about Tubbo, that much is clear, and Tommy doesn’t waste time in returning to his room. 

It takes little over a week for the bear to break. When it does, Tommy’s stomach sinks and his blood runs cold as he anxiously presses the button again and again, until the harsh reality sets in. He’s pressed it so much that the recorder had broken, and any words Tubbo had left for him were now completely gone. The box in the bear’s paw makes garbled noises as he keeps pressing it, hoping somehow that one of the noises will be his friend’s voice. Frustration builds with each failure, until eventually he groans loudly and chucks the stuffed animal at his closet. It falls to the ground, staring at him. The plush expression has him covering his face with his hands, falling back on to his bed. 

He goes to pick up the bear, an apologetic and disheartened look on his face. As he does, he remembers Wil’s bear he’d chucked into the closet, and feels a small pang of remorse. As much as he hates admitting it, the idea to record their voices in the bears had been a good one. Tubbo’s bear had been a major comfort item, as well as the red bandana he’s kept tied around his neck. He opens the closet, finding Wil’s bear exactly where he’d thrown it, and as he reaches down to get it, he finds the bag of tapes he and Tubbo had been making for Wil. He pauses, eyes widening for a moment before he picks those up too, taking them back to his bed. He sets the bears aside and searches through the bag, eventually finding the tape he and Tubbo had made during their Valentine’s Day karaoke. He puts it in the cassette and presses play. 

The tapes he and Tubbo had crafted together become a new comfort item, something that Tommy becomes very careful with. He lets the stuffed bears sit together on his nightstand again, and after nearly three weeks of isolation, he goes downstairs. He brings the stuffed bee with him, a sickly anxiety churning in his stomach when he sees Techno and Wilbur watching something on the TV. Both look up at him, and while Wil’s mouth opens slightly, Techno cuts him off.

”Hey Tommy.” He greets, voice monotonous. Tommy swallows and nods back a greeting, and nothing else is said after that. He’s a bit relieved at that, grateful that neither of them ask how he’s doing or treat him with pity. It’s the motivation he needs to join them in the living room after getting himself a bowl of cereal. He seats himself on the floor, back to the bottom of the chair as he watches whatever show the other two decided on. The bee sits comfortably in his lap. 

They have dinner together that night. Nobody has bothered to move Tubbo’s chair away, and Tommy can’t tell if he prefers it or not. On one hand, it makes the empty space at the table painfully obvious. Yet on the other, it’s almost as if nothing’s changed. As if everyone at the table hasn’t completely moved on. And that’s nice. At some point Phil asks Wil about his friends, and if they’ve been talking over the summer. Apparently he and Schlatt managed to get into the same college, and will be attending their first years together. As for Niki, Fundy, and Eret, they’re all in Techno’s year, so they won’t be graduating until next year. At the mention of those three, Phil asks if he’s been talking to them, and Wil gives a small shrug. “Niki and Fundy, yeah. Well, sort of. Fundy has long shifts at the pop culture store, and Niki got a job at a bakery.” 

“And Eret?” Phil asks, a brow quirked, and that time, Wil shakes his head.

”Gone completely off the grid. He hasn’t been active on Discord, Instagram, or anything else. I’ve tried messaging him, and so have Fundy and Niki.” He says, sounding a bit sad at that. Phil gives a small hum, sounding similarly disappointed. There’s a small moment of silence that hangs heavy over the table, and after a moment, just as Tommy finishes his plate and gets up to do the dishes, Wil addresses him. “Tommy, you remember Eret, right?”

”Of course.” 

Wil hums. “Apparently he and Tubbo were related.” He says, and the way he says it has Tommy’s brain rushing to catch up. When it does, his eyes widen, things clicking into place. Tubbo had always said he’d remembered a deep voice, and he’d died at the tree house. It made sense for his family to still be around town. He just hadn’t expected any of them to actually meet them. Tommy schools his expression into something more calm, nodding at the information he’s been given. 

“Tell him I’m sorry for his loss.” Tommy replies, voice soft as he stands, taking his plate and the stuffed bee with him to the kitchen. Nothing else is said on the matter that night, and Tommy cleans everyone’s dishes and puts them away. Phil and Wilbur are talking again, but over the rush of water, he can’t hear a word of it. When the dishes are done he heads up stairs, where he spends the evening listening to the tapes as he tries to fall asleep. Rest doesn’t come easily, and he spends the first few hours wondering what that information might mean. He wonders how Eret must have felt when Tubbo first died, wonders exactly what was going through Tubbo’s mind when he first saw him again. He wonders if he ever actually remembered.

He plays the tape a countless number of times before finally drifting off. The last month of summer break comes quickly, and Phil and Wilbur spend that time packing up the things in Wil’s room. Tommy only discovers this as he’s coming up the stairs and spots the two of them putting things in boxes, stripping his room bare. It makes his heart stop. “What are you two doing?” He asks, as casually as he can. The two stop their work in order to look at him, smiling bittersweetly.

”Packing up my things for university.” Wil explains, setting the armful of things he has into one of the boxes. “The university is having a freshman orientation thing, so I need to arrive a week early. We don’t want to save all the packing for last minute.” 

Tommy’s brows furrow. With recent events, Wil’s departure hadn’t exactly been at the forefront of his mind. He hadn’t expected it to be so soon, or for them to start doing things so quickly. Hell, it’s only just now hit him that not only was Wil leaving, but his room would be emptied too. Any trace of his brother’s stay would be completely and utterly gone, and that scares him a little. “When are you leaving?” He asks. 

“Sunday, next week.” Wil answers, and Tommy nods, letting that information sink in. He heads to his room after that, finding the tapes. A cold feeling blooms from his chest, fingers tracing over the different tapes they’ve made. His thoughts form a lump in his stomach, and as the days pass, he finally lets himself think on them. That week is filled with back to school shopping, where Wil gets enough well fitting clothes for his college departure, and both Techno and Tommy come along for the ride. He needs lined paper and pencils, along with a few new shirts. The mundane activities do very little in distracting him, and come Saturday night after a dinner out- Wil’s choice, as a celebration -Tommy knocks hesitantly on his door.

It opens without hesitation. “Tommy?” He says, confused, and it further tightens that lump in his chest. 

“Hey Wil. Mind if I come in?” He asks, and immediately, Wilbur steps aside. He flicks on the lights as Tommy enters, giving him full view of the various boxes sat around his room. The covers to Wil’s bed are still there- luckily they bought new ones for when he goes off to college. The old ones will stay here. Tommy does his best to avoid the boxes, sitting down on Wil’s bed and patting the spot next to him. Wil gladly takes the spot, staring at Tommy curiously. He clears his throat. “I uh, I have something for you. A gift for college.” He says, and he shows Wil both the stuffed orca and the different tapes. His eyes widen at the cassette player, mouth falling agape.

”Tommy, are these your tapes?” He asks, sounding astounded and shocked. Tommy shakes his head.

”No, no. They’re uh- I’ve been working on them for a while. They’re for you.” He explains, watching now as Wil looks over all of the different tapes, labeled with different names. The cold feeling spreads throughout him upon seeing the look of pure adoration in Wil’s face, the amount of pure love as he gingerly inspects each of them, reading their names. “Tubbo and I worked on them. He played the ukulele and we sang them.” He murmurs, and Wil’s eyebrows raise, head immediately turning back to him. Tommy doesn’t meet his gaze, instead leveling it at the stuffed orca he’s given. 

“Tommy, are you sure you want me to have these?” He asks softly, and he nods.

”Yeah,” He has to swallow to clear his voice, trying to ignore how choked up he’s getting about all this. While he’s had more time to accept that Wil would be leaving, the pain is still there. It doesn’t help that it’s overlapped with the pain of losing Tubbo. “Yeah, I’m sure. You should have them. They were made for you.” He says, trying to keep his voice from sounding as dejected as he feels. Tubbo’s voice is on those tapes- the sound of his laughter, robotic and staticky due to the recording process. Giving these to Wil means giving up the last real chance to hear Tubbo’s voice again. But he’s known this was coming; this is what the tapes were meant for. It’d be selfish not to give them up.

Wil envelops him in a hug, warm and tight, and it catches him wholly off guard. It takes him a second before he fully realizes what’s happening, and when he does, he’s rapidly blinking away tears and clutching at his brother’s back. “Thank you, Tommy. I love them.” Wil says, voice soft and rumbly in a way Tommy can feel against his chest, and it’s wonderful. It hurts so much, it’s overwhelming, but it’s fantastic in every way.

”T-Try not to forget about me off at college, alright?” He says, voice choked and absolutely wrecked, and Wil holds him tighter. He nods against Tommy’s shoulder, and the two of them stay like that for a moment, holding each other close like it’s the last chance they might get. When Tommy’s finally calmed down a bit, they pull apart, and he chuckles grimly. “You don’t have to take everything with you, do you?” He asks, and it’s meant to be a joke, but something in him longs for at least a part of Wilbur to stay. He gives Tommy a fond look, standing up from the bed and moving to one of the boxes. He pops it open easily, digging around inside until he finds what he’s looking for. When he turns around, he’s got his beanie in hand.

He extends it forwards, and hesitantly, Tommy takes it, holding it as if it might fall apart. “I’m going to miss you Tommy. I’m going to miss you a lot.” He says, sitting down at Tommy’s side now. His hand comes up, warm as it ruffles his hair, getting blond locks into his eyes and face. “You’re the best little brother I could have asked for, and I’m never going to forget about you.” He adds, fingers coming down and pushing the hair out of his eyes. He smiles warmly. “Well? Put on the hat. I want to see you wear it.” He says, and Tommy quickly sets it on his head. It’s strange, and Wil quickly helps him adjust it, letting his hair stick out the front. When it’s done, he pulls his hand back, head tilting slightly to the side as he smiles. It causes creases at the corners of his eyes. “It suits you. It really does.”

Tommy smiles, and after that, they exchange one last hug before he heads off to his room. The hat is nice, probably the first actual piece of hand-me-down clothing he’s ever gotten. He’s gotten things from thrift stores, sure, but he’s never actually been gifted clothes from a family member. This is new, and it makes a warm feeling in his chest battle out the cold. Sleeping that night still isn’t easy, now that he’s missing Tubbo’s voice entirely, but he listens to Wil’s tapes instead and it’s almost as good. His chest aches with all the emotions he’s felt in the past few days, but he finds his first full rest, one that lasts into the early afternoon. Phil and Wilbur have already moved both of the boxes, and each of them wish Techno and him a temporary goodbye. Wil first gives one to Tommy, squeezing him tightly and ruffling up his hair before straightening out the beanie. After that, he turns to Techno, caught off guard as the younger brings him into a tight hug.

Wil practically melts on the spot, clutching the other tightly. When he pulls back, he’s beaming, well dressed and practically radiant. Both he and Phil head off, leaving Tommy and Techno in the house alone. “Do you, uh... Do you want to go to L’manburgh?” Techno asks after a while, giving Tommy time to have breakfast. The question makes his eyes widen, a near fluttery feeling in his chest. 

“Really?” He asks, and Techno nods. It’ll be the first time visiting L’manburgh since Tubbo disappeared, but now, Tommy can’t help but feel excited. He grins widely. “Of course! Just let me get ready- can you grab us some snacks?” He can’t help the way the words leave him quickly, and Techno nods silently at each thing Tommy tells him to get. When that’s done, he runs upstairs to get dressed and gather his things. He takes Tubbo’s bee, tucking it into his backpack as he gets his outfit together. Despite how much he loves the hoodie, it really does reek, so he chucks it aside and gets dressed. He wears one of his shirts along with his brown bomber jacket, just in case things get chilly. When he’s done, he adjusts the red necktie and the beanie, making sure they look good before rushing down the stairs.

Techno has gotten everything set up, making it easy for Tommy to put them away in the backpack. The two of them leave the house, and Tommy chats excitedly with his brother. Techno doesn’t get much of a chance to speak, but he does nod and hum to show that he’s listening. The leaves on the trees are starting to take on an autumn color, turning pale green with the seasons. They reach the intersection, then duck into the woods, continuing the rest of their walk. The tree house is just as they left it, and Tommy can’t help his excitement as he rushes over. His hand hesitates four rungs up, and in a brief second, he avoids that step all together. He reaches for the fifth rung and pulls himself up, taking great care not to touch that one. 

They spend the afternoon there, talking about different college plans. Techno only has one year left after all, before his room is emptied just like Wilbur’s. “I’m thinkin’ of being an English major.” He says, and Tommy snorts a little at the answer. Of fucking course that would be the case- he’s always had that poetic sort of nature about him, that fascination with all of the great classics. 

“I’m sure that’ll go well.” Tommy remarks, and Techno rolls his eyes, smiling.

”Can’t go any worse than Wil’s Music major.”

That statement has Tommy laughing, nearly falling out of the hammock with how hard he cackles. At some point in the day, they migrate down to the open field. Techno lays on his back, arms resting on his chest as he watches the sky. Tommy sits at his side, plucking at the nearby wildflowers. He still can’t quite make a chain of them, the flowers falling apart as he tries to move on to the next one. They stay there a while, the golden hour enveloping the land around them in a rich yellow lighting. It’s about then that Tommy finally manages to make a flower chain- the best one he’s made so far. He shows it to Techno, offering it to him, and his brother takes it with a fond smile, putting it on his wrist. The two of them walk home, and with the money Phil left them, argue over various takeout orders. They sit in the living room and watch TV, eating out of the takeout boxes until the night grows late and they head upstairs. 

That week is spent playing video games and visiting the tree house. They play with sticks they find on the ground, pretending they’re swords as they fight. They skip rocks along the creek, and Tommy shows Techno the rock he found just a little bit downstream. When they play video games, it’s just the two of them, playing some of the games they got for Tubbo from Christmas. And as the nights come, silence washing over him as the crickets chirp, Tommy still can’t find sleep. The space on his bed is far too empty, and there’s no tight hold around him that he’s grown so familiar with. Without the activities to busy his mind, he grows sad, and spends a good portion of the night restless and awake, an ache gnawing at him. There’s not a single part of Tommy that doesn’t miss Tubbo, that doesn’t think about him constantly. Even with how Techno tries to distract him.

Techno makes coffee for him in the mornings. He drinks it black now, just like the rest of them, and when it’s time for his first day of school, he’s a little more awake for it. He wears his bomber jacket, as well as one of his traditional shirts and cargo shorts. Blond hair pokes out messily from underneath Wil’s beanie, and the red bandana is tied around his upper arm. He’d briefly considered cutting a small piece of the stuffed bee to make it into a patch, but had become so sick at the idea that he instead opted to just bring it with him. The idea of leaving it at home made him feel absolutely horrible, almost panicky, so it sits tucked away in his backpack. The two of them say their goodbyes to Phil and walk towards the school.

They discuss schedules, learning that they share the same lunch period. For a moment, Tommy sulks a little, remembering that he would be spending his school days and lunch period alone. Techno’s quick to pick up on it, and makes a comment on how he wouldn’t mind sitting with Tommy to study. Tommy beams at the comment, even brighter as he sees the flustered yet fond look on his brother’s face. Wil had always been emotional and touchy, and Tommy’s much the same. And while Techno is distanced, he also does so much for the both of them, and the thought makes Tommy grin. The two of them sit outside amidst the bustling students, with Techno checking his phone or texting every now and then. 

The classes pass fairly easily, considering it’s the first day and all. It’s mostly syllabus work, paired with the unfortunate yearly ritual of introducing himself to the rest of his classmates. He doesn’t particularly enjoy any of them, and as he tries his best to focus on his schoolwork, he can’t help but feel an emptiness grow inside him. He will occasionally glance up, only to look right back down once he realizes that he isn’t going to see Tubbo somewhere around the classroom. He’s got nobody to talk to, leaving him sitting all alone as he waits for the time to pass. At least he won’t be sitting at lunch alone this year, he thinks as he packs up his things, making sure not to squish the stuffed bee under his binders. 

His phone buzzes in his pocket, and as he walks out into the hall, he pulls it out to check it.

_From Blade:_

_Meet me at the east wing stairwell. Second Floor._

Tommy’s brows furrow, confused as he puts his phone back in his pocket. He and Techno had decided on a different meeting location before school even began, so to have it switched so suddenly was kind of strange. Still, he doesn’t care, and instead turns to head towards the east wing. The halls are surprisingly empty, most students having already rushed to secure their spots at the lunch tables. It makes it easy for Tommy to reach the stairwell, meeting Techno at the bottom. There’s a small smirk to his brother’s lips, making Tommy quirk a brow at him. “Any reason in particular for changing the meeting spot?” He asks, a half smile on his face. Techno shrugs, trying his best to look uninterested. It’s honestly kind of funny.

”No reason. Come on, before the cafeteria line gets too long.” Techno answers, and from there, the two of them walk out from the stairwell. They round the corner to enter the east wing, and Tommy spots only two other people in the hallway. It takes a second to recognize the first- Eret’s hair is cut shorter, now, and he’s dressed rather nicely as opposed to the other times Tommy’s seen him. The second boy is facing away from him, a pair of crutches tucked under each arm. When Eret sees him, he grins, and turns to the boy next to him, tapping his shoulder and pointing. Tommy’s heart stops as the second boy turns to face him, eyes wide and mouth agape.

Standing there is a boy in a green button up, burn scars curling up his jaw and climbing his cheek. He’s pale, and on crutches, but he’s there. He’s _here._ And once he sees Tommy, he grins excitedly, pushing his cheeks up near his eyes. “Tommy?” He asks, and fuck, it’s been so long since Tommy’s heard his voice. He can’t stop himself- he runs forward at full speed, almost tackling Tubbo with how hard he hugs him. He holds him tight, tears in his eyes as Tubbo’s hands slowly wrap around him, holding him close. It’s warm, different from any of the hugs they’ve had before. It’s so much better. Tubbo laughs in his ear, soft and bright and it tears at every emotion Tommy’s been trying to process since he left. 

“Are- Are you real?” He asks after a second, pulling back. He doesn’t take his hands off Tubbo, and instead lets them rest at his arms. The boy nods at him, smiling as he nods. 

“I am, I am.” He assures, and Tommy can’t help but bring him into a hug again. Not as tight as the first, but comforting and warm and so, so good. As they pull apart, Tommy looks between Eret and Techno. Eret looks a little confused, but overall rather touched by the whole scenario. As for Techno, his expression shifts the second Tommy’s eyes switch to him, from heartfelt and touched to amused and pleased. 

“And you- And you knew?” Tommy asks, then whips his head back to face the boy, who’s still laughing a little with pure unbridled joy. “How did you even- How are you-“

”We should get some food first. Don’t want to miss the whole lunch period.” Techno says, cutting off Tommy’s stammering. And while Tommy’s ready to argue about that, he is actually hungry, and everyone else seems to agree. So, they go to the cafeteria, grabbing some food. Tubbo does most of the explaining once the four of them find a spot.

He starts by describing how he woke up in a hospital. According to Eret, the two of them had gone off to the tree house during the festival a year prior. While playing with fireworks, Tubbo had gotten hit, both burning him and sending him falling out of the tree house, where he hit his head. The collision sent him into a coma, where he stayed until about a week or so after the most recent festival. After waking up, he'd had to go through intense physical therapy in order to train his muscles and nerves, something that had proven incredibly difficult. Eret was the one to help him and keep him company, dropping almost everything else in order to do so. 

During that time, he had apparently explained to Eret what had happened while he was in a coma. And while his brother definitely hadn't believed it at first, Tubbo was able to provide multiple details to prove it was the truth. From there, Tubbo had to convince his parents to try and let him test into the next grade, so that he and Tommy would have a chance at having some of the same classes. Both the hospital and his parents seemed to be against it, but after multiple brain scans and tests, they let him. Since he had been with Tommy for most of the previous year, he passed the tests and skipped to the next grade- the one he was supposed to be in. He still has to do physical therapy, as well as mental and physical evaluations once every two weeks, but he's here. 

"Is that where you'd go when you disappeared? To the hospital?" Tommy asks, and Tubbo nods. Apparently for Eret, when Tubbo had started fading, he had actually been waking up a little, hearing their voices. It's incredible, but something calls his attention. "So when you started floating and glowing and shit, what about then? What was happening?"

Tubbo's face goes from an almost excited smile to a ghostly look, lips pulled into a frown. "I-I don't know." He says, voice soft and almost pained. It makes Tommy's skin crawl, and an option presents itself at the back of his mind. Maybe, he thinks, maybe he'd nearly lost Tubbo for good. He shivers at the thought, remembering how he'd cried and screamed for Tubbo to come back to him. And now- now he's here. And Tommy doesn't think about that night any more. 

When the bell rings for them to go to their next class, they make promises to meet at the tree house sometime that week. Tommy and Eret help Tubbo walk to his next class, and just as they're about to split, Tommy pulls the bee from his backpack. Eret's eyes widen at the sight of it, while Tubbo smiles, taking it back from Tommy's hands. He does so almost gently, as if there's a chance the fabric will simply fall through his hands again. They shake as he holds the plush, fingers running across the fabric as if he's mesmerized by it. 

When class ends, Tommy rushes home to tell Phil everything. The man looks absolutely relieved and overjoyed, listening to every word Tommy says. He makes sure to call Wilbur that night as well, excitedly explaining it all to him. Wil sounds absolutely shocked on the other end of the line, but laughs loudly and joyously once he manages to wrap his head around it. He promises to visit both of them the second he gets a long break.

During the week, Tommy adds Tubbo on discord, and they all plan a day to go out to the tree house. Phil talks with Tubbo's parents, assuring them that he'll take good care of him. They're incredibly hesitant to let their son go, but after incredible amounts of begging and pleading, they accept. That morning, Tommy eagerly paces around the living room, and as the door rings, he rushes to it, laughing and shouting as he scoops Tubbo up into a hug. His friend’s parents are stood behind him, and Tommy introduces himself excitedly.

They talk with Phil for a moment, just to be sure that things will be okay, and then take their leave, entrusting Tubbo to their care. The moment the door closes, Phil brings Tubbo into a hug, laughing and finally ruffling up his hair, leaving it pointing every which way. “Never make me worried like that again, you little shit.” He says, grinning ear to ear, and Tubbo laughs and nods as he’s set down. The three of them go to the kitchen to set up their picnic. Tubbo talks about how happy he is he can finally eat and drink things, hands shaking as he attempts to put together a sandwich. Tommy helps him through it, cleaning up the messy peanut butter and jelly sandwiches before sealing them in a ziploc. They put the sandwiches and crisps in a lunch bag then call down Techno, beginning their walk to the clearing.

Tommy keeps close to Tubbo as they walk, making sure the boy doesn’t trip or fall with his crutches. For the most part he’s fully capable of doing things on his own, but as they begin their walk into the forest, the uneven ground makes it a little more difficult. Tommy keeps his hand on Tubbo’s back, guiding him through the wooded area, and when they reach the creek, they walk along the banks. He helps him when they reach the crossing point, taking his hands as they carefully step to the other side. They turn, facing the open clearing before them, tree house perched on the other side of the field. They don’t race, then, but Tommy does guide Tubbo across the field. 

Tall grass tickles at their legs, making Tubbo’s eyes widen and head tilt down as he stares. He stops, making Tommy turn to look at him, an endeared smile coming to his face as he sees Tubbo’s awed expression. They sit down right then and there, and Tubbo lets his hands trace across the blades of grass ever so gently. “Just as soft as you remember?” Tommy asks, tone fond and adoring, and Tubbo gives a small nod.

”Yeah. It is.”

As Phil and Techno set up the picnic, Tommy and Tubbo sit there, touching the grass and talking. They pluck at the wildflowers that spring up around them, attempting to weave chains of them. Tommy’s not quite practiced at it, while Tubbo’s hands shake, leaving them both unable to form a chain. Tubbo’s brows pinch together a little, lips forming a small frown, and Tommy gives him a comforting smile. “You’ll get better at it again.” He assures, and Tubbo nods, setting aside what he has now. 

They eat their lunch, sitting and watching the clouds go by, talking about all the things they get to do together. Both Techno and Eret will graduate this year, and with time, they will as well. Together. As time passes, golden hour sets in. While Phil packs up their things, Tommy helps Tubbo to his feet, grabbing his crutches. For the first time, Tommy gets to see him enveloped by the golden light instead of consumed by it. It turns his skin a radiant yellow, scars a peachy orange. It shines in his hair and his eyes, casting warm shadows. And as Tommy takes his hand, finding himself awed at his newfound ability to touch his friend, he also comes to the realization that it’s different from before. 

It’s warm, and both he and Tubbo are able to squeeze their hands together, with neither one of them slipping through. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you guys so much for coming along for the ride! this fic and the responses to it have been the world to me, and i hope you all have enjoyed it as much as i have. if you guys have any questions regarding ghost/spirit mechanics, plot, etc, just let me know and i will be glad to answer them in the comments!


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